Dancing With Thunder
by justsomeone2010
Summary: Marriage, baby, healthy sex life... Imogen had everything every woman in Asgard ever wanted. Only they still want it. Meddling nobles and scorned women don't seem so content to leave the prince and his former mistress to their happily ever after.
1. Chapter 1

**If you're not sure what sort of M story this is going to be you'll find out in about t-minus three...**

**Two...**

**One...**

**Zer-**

**Chapter 1**

Heated whimpers filled the royal bedroom, breathless, blissful sighs... "Ah!" Imogen's fingers gripped her husband's luscious blonde hair as he thrust deep inside of her.

The thin sheet dipped between the props of her knees, hovering over the slowly moving body of the Prince of Asgard as he kept them parted wide. His hands braced either side of his wife's head, her beautiful raven black hair splayed out around her porcelain features.

It gave him a perfect view of her: her head was pushed back into the pillows, her cheeks flushed and lips parted to admit her moans. Hands gripped his biceps, her swelled, alert breasts rising and falling with heated, passionate breaths. Her body had changed. Her stomach carried a little more weight than before, only adding to the luscious curves that drove Thor wild for her.

"Uhn..." she moaned, back arching off the bed. "Please... more."

Thor surrendered to his own deep groan as he dropped his head forward, gasping; Imogen's core gripped him tight. It had a been a while since they'd done this.

The god leaned down on his elbows and pressed his mouth to his wife's, swallowing her gasps as he drove his hips into hers harder, his pace steady and controlled. He didn't want to go too hard on her. Not now. It was the first time they'd made love since the birth of their daughter.

Four weeks... Thor could hardly believe they'd gone so long without such intimacy and survived! Before they were married they couldn't keep their hands off each other, coupling at least once a day if not more when the need took them.

But a baby had changed that.

Just.

The god closed his eyes and his hand found Imogen's hip, pulling her to him as if he could reach deeper inside her. Oh, this was where he wanted to be. Always.

His lips parted in labored breaths as he sped up, thrusting his hips firmly up into the crevice of his wife, reveling in her cries. Not long ... it wouldn't be long now... her inner muscles clenched around him and he dipped his mouth down to her arched neck, teeth nipping at the soft skin.

He wanted her. He wanted all of her.

Her hips pushed back against his urgently and fragile whimpers bled from her, sounds that Thor knew from experience told him she was close. Her arms crushed around his neck, her breasts pressing into his chest.

"Ah!"

Her hips lost control and Thor let her take him with her, pistoning his pelvis into hers. So much for gentleness - they needed this too much.

He buried his face into her neck as her core gripped him, then released him, the rhythm speeding up as he brought her closer to the edge. He could feel it too; his loud groan drowned into the side of Imogen's neck.

"Thor!" she whined, her voice strangled. "Oh gods, I love you. Please, please, please. I need this." She rushed, as trying to match pace with her frantic heartbeat, the mad movement of her hips against Thor's.

He was only too happy to oblige. He could feel the heat pooling rapidly in his gut and knew he wouldn't be able to hold back, his arms clenching around his wife, drawing her in as he pommelled into her flesh. Her body clenched hard around him but this time she didn't let go, back arching, moans lifting higher...

His mouth hung open in a silent groan as he thrust himself hard inside his wife and froze, his seed spilling into her convulsing body. It was every bit of bliss he'd dreamed of.

He kept still as he slowly came down from his high, arms hugging Imogen tightly to him as her warm body, sheened with a light layer of sweat trembled, her mewls softening as she floated back down to reality with him. The arms relaxed around his neck, the legs either side of his hips going loose. For a moment, they just lay there gasping for breath.

Imogen licked her lips, eyes still fluttered shut from her high. "Well, that was..." her mind wasn't functioning well enough to find an apt word, her husband still looming over her, filling her.

"It's been too long." Thor answered simply, rasping for breath.

His hand at her hip steadied her as he eased out, feeling her body tense as he did so. She winced. Oops, he thought. He should have been gentler. Still, there was no denying the contented smile on his wife's face as he tilted them onto their sides, his hand rising to cup her flushed cheek.

Her eyes snapped open, still dark and sultry. Still swirling with lust. It was enough to spark Thor's desire for her all over again. His arm snaked around her waist and drew her close, her body flush with his. His growing erection pressed into her belly.

"You've not long ago had a baby and you're already craving." he murmured, peppering kisses around her beautiful flushed face. Her breaths were still labored.

His wife just arched an eyebrow, lips pressing into a smirk. "I'm a very capable woman."

He loved when she arched an eyebrow - it made her look so alluring. It lit her eyes up with entice, with attitude... oh, Thor _loved_ the attitude. She was one of the very few people who could stand up to him.

He thought back to the first time she'd arched an eyebrow at him, when he'd chastised her for sneaking off to work after the first night of their 'arrangement', when she'd first agreed to pose as his mistress... he'd said that no woman of his worked on her knees. Well, they'd since proved that very wrong! Why did her arching eyebrow always seem to bring good things...

Thor paused to stare into his wife's orbs, admiring the dark swirling violet. They were so beautiful. No woman he'd ever met had eyes such a vibrant color as his wife's. They were like the jewels he had her wear on her gowns person, shining, gleaming.

... and so, so seductive. He hadn't realized his hips were flexing, but he did nothing to stop it once he did. His wife was such a vixen.

"That you are." he growled, his hand on her face tracing down the rest of her: her collar bone, her breast, down the dip of her waist, and over the firm arch of her hips... his fingers carried on trailing under her thigh, hitching her leg higher around his hips as they went.

He got to her knee and flattened his palm on her warm skin, sucking in a breath; he could feel the dampness of her womanhood pressing against him. His palm slowly started to stroke back up her thigh.

His eyes never left hers, and vice versa. It was like a challenge. Neither one backed down as the god's palm trailed up her leg, closer to her hips, moving round to the underside of her thigh the closer he got. He knew his eyes must be mirroring Imogen's - dark, swirling pools of lust. He didn't care. He didn't need to. He and his wife wanted exactly the same thing.

He watched her gaze widen slightly, her lips parting as he touched her wetness and slid a finger smoothly into her warm cavern. The gasp, to him, spelled his victory.

Thor smirked. "You're always so ready." he breathed.

Leaning in, he claimed his wife's mouth as his as his finger pumped slowly in and out of her, feeling her body weep for him.

Maybe he hadn't pushed her too far after all, he thought with relief as Imogen rolled her hips to his finger, eager to be touched. His mouth moved slow, just as his finger, their tongues dancing in an erotic seduction.

Then one sound shattered it all: the baby.

The harsh little cries tore distantly through the quiet bedroom, signaling the end of their passion. Thor could feel it; it was like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over him.

Reluctantly, he pulled away. "But you're also in high demand." he sighed heavily, his finger sliding free of his wife's body.

Imogen's orbs were burning violet coals when they snapped open. Lust crossed with anger - a dangerous mix. Thor had a feeling he would pay for this deprivation later, but it wasn't his fault: it was Shelby's.

_Odd_, Thor thought as he sat himself up, running a hand through his hair. Their daughter had sparked such a passion inside Imogen when she was pregnant, but now... now she seemed to take every measure she could to avoid her parents having sex. _Feeling left out now_, the god couldn't help but drawl sarcastically as he rolled out of bed and pulled some trousers on.

They fit fine, he noticed with a sad sigh. His night of passion was well and truly over now.

He wasn't the only one frustrated it seemed, as Imogen got out of bed too, letting out an exasperated groan. "That child had better be fending off a murderer to warrant interrupting that." Imogen muttered bitterly, tugging the belt of her robe around her waist with much more force than was necessary.

"She's only a baby, Imogen." Thor tried to defend. He didn't dare put his arm around her - not while there was that angry blaze in her eyes. Normally he liked the blaze... just not the angry version.

Imogen's orbs were hard and hot now as she strode to the door attached to their bedroom, linking them to their child's. Thor followed lazily, but made sure to get to the door first to stop his wife yanking it off its hinges.

"And it's only been more than a month since we lay together, Thor." she barked back, not even looking at him as she passed.

_Definitely angry_, Thor affirmed in his head.

He half wished he were a baby too as he watched Imogen cross the dark nursery to the crib, reaching in to the screaming child: despite the anger he knew to be carving inside her, her touch was tender and he knew her face would have been serenely smoothed for her daughter. If only he could have the ability to make her do that for him whenever he riled her tensions!

His lips curved into a smirk and he moved to the lamp, finding the match and sandpaper. Seconds later, the dim light bloomed to grace him with the most beautiful sight.

Imogen held Shelby at her shoulder, rocking softly as the infant cried. Her face was soft, her eyes almost closed as she murmured reassuring things to the little girl, her fingers rubbing her tiny back comfortingly. It made Thor's heart stop for a moment: the two most wonderful women in his life, so beautiful...

"Look, Shelby." Imogen murmured, loud enough for Thor to hear her. His eyes snapped to focus from his daydreaming, catching Imogen's sharp, teasing gaze on him. "Father's smiling. We'll have to do something about that."

The baby screamed on, but it didn't seem to matter as the couple exchanged a smirk, eyes alight with... well, everything. Promise. Lust. A deep, deep proud longing.

"You're so cruel." Thor murmured, folding his arms across his chest proudly. He stood tall, knowing Imogen was checking out every inch of his exposed, chiseled torso. His soul glowed with satisfaction at the knowledge. _His_ ring on her finger, _his_ baby in her arms, and _his _body she craved... oh, how could he not be content at that?

"I think she is the cruel one." Imogen replied, shifting the infant lightly on her shoulder. "Dragging us up whilst we were in the middle of potentially making her a brother or sister."

Thor ignored the flutter of his heart as Imogen turned and walked to the wooden chair against the wall of the nursery. It quickly turned into a tug though when he saw the distressed little face scrunched up over her shoulder.

"Oh, Shelby..." he breathed, before he could help it.

He didn't think it was possible to love something so dearly just for existing but... well, here was Shelby proving him wrong. Imogen loved him and _loved_ him, but Shelby... Thor wasn't even sure she recognized them! And yet he loved her with all his heart. And seeing her so undone...

Imogen turned the baby away from him as she sat down on the seat and moved her daughter from her shoulder, bringing her down to cradle in her arms.

Thor crossed the room instantly, his hand finding the back of the chair. His brow was furrowed as he watched Imogen peel her robe around one of her breasts, freeing it. Soon, Shelby's cries were replaced with deep, contented gulps.

He knew she was just hungry. But it didn't change the fact that his daughter was upset. And he found that very hard to take. Watching her feed though, watching her tiny face smooth of tension, his heart started to relax.

His hand moved down to Imogen's shoulder and squeezed as she tipped her head back and sighed, her eyes closed.

"Well, I won't be very fresh faced for my parents tomorrow, will I?" she breathed. "Something else the noble's will gossip about, no doubt."

Thor sighed too, and sank down to his knees beside her. He pressed a kiss down on her knee before he shifted his legs beneath him, so the side of his head leaned against Imogen's thigh. She was right. "It doesn't matter what they say."

"I think it matters a great deal what they say." She countered calmly.

Another sigh left the god, and he rose his hand up Imogen's leg, fingers tracing light circles into her skin. "Is this about Shelby?" he asked quietly, eyes hardening a touch.

The royal court didn't think much of Thor's choice of wife. And when she gave birth to a daughter rather than a son… hostility was sealed against Imogen. Her failure to produce an heir was being used as a 'sign' that she was a poor choice of companion. Not that Thor listened to a word of it; he loved his wife and his daughter dearly.

Still the nobles refused to talk to Imogen. They regarded her as little more than a servant girl or prostitute, and it made Thor thunderous with anger that his beloved wife be made to feel so rejected. His fingers twitched around her calf at the memory of how they'd all turned their heads away from her, refusing to even look at her. But he couldn't impose punishment on what they _didn't _do, only on what they did. And they did nothing.

"It's not just Shelby." Imogen admitted sadly. "I just wish I could be a wife you could be proud of. I'm sure they would accept Shelby if only they liked me more than they do."

That was something Thor couldn't argue. The sad tone to her voice tugged at his heart and he leaned into her thigh, moving so his lips pressed into the soft skin. He wanted her to feel loved, happy. And she was – with him. As soon as he was gone though, she was alone and he despised that fact. She wasn't a maid now or a peasant; she was to be Queen. Sooner than they realized. She should be treated as such.

"So much for your name meaning 'sheltered', little one." Imogen mused to the baby as she switched breast, a small smile on her lips. She wouldn't let her sadness show for her baby, Shelby's tiny bright blue orbs blinking up at her innocently. Her father's eyes…

"She will be sheltered." Thor assured softly, though his orbs swirled with dark promise. He would not allow this treatment to continue for his daughter. Imogen was strong and Shelby was still a baby, but when she grew…Thor would not let anyone belittle his daughter. She deserved more than that.

He could already see it in his head: a little girl stood in court with her teary blue eyes and dark haired head bowed in shame as the nobles looked upon her with scorn. He would not let that become a reality. He'd rather disband the court and have them banished from the palace than have that vision become true, to have his precious daughter put down so.

Even so, he was working on a plan for now. Something had to be done. Maybe hold an address to the nobles, publically accuse them of being rude to his wife. That would put pressure. The public had no ills against Imogen… but that could sway it either way; they could choose to side with the nobles or with him. It was a risk.

Treason was out of the question until someone actually did something, and that was a scenario Thor wanted to avoid at all costs. Imogen could live with a few glares… but if someone were to wish her harm…

His head leaned closer on Imogen's thigh running his hand up the inside of her leg to banish the thought. He couldn't imagine her gone. His fingers stroked up the inside of her thigh until they reached the hem of her robe. He pressed on still.

"I'm feeding your daughter and you think it's appropriate to touch me?" Imogen's voice was laden with sass, and Thor knew without looking that a single eyebrow was lifted.

Thor's lips squirked in a smirk. "We could finish what we started." He breathed, pressing a tender kiss into the outside of her thigh.

He was glad that Imogen's body betrayed her words, her legs teasing apart as his fingertip touched her wetness, running the digit through the damp curls between her thighs. His trousers tightened. Imogen's sigh solidified his grin and he peeked his gaze up to see her head tipped back, back arched slightly, baby feeding still feeding from her open chest.

Her eyes were fluttered shut, and Thor's groin surged at the rasp in her voice. "I am not going to climax with our daughter here, Thor."

"Because you have so much control over this." The god mused sarcastically under his breath, as he slipped two fingers into his wife's wet, gripping heat regardless. Her legs parted to admit him.

He shifted round so he was knelt between her legs, one hand around her thigh, opening her wide to him. His other hand was turned up as he worked two thick fingers inside her, curling them to the heavens. They pressed into the spot inside her that made her jaw fall open, a silent cry leaving her. Her hips pressed against his palm, trying to intensify the pressure.

She made no sound this time, maybe for her daughter's sake. The only noise in the nursery was of Shelby's slow deep gulps as she fed from her mother's chest.

Thor's thumb brushed over her clit though, and a whimpering gasp left Imogen. She may not want to do this here and now… but, by gods, Thor did. Shelby was too young to be aware of it yet, to understand, let alone remember. And he gathered her sucking on Imogen's breast only brought extra stimulation to his wife.

His fingers kept up the hard pressure on the spot inside her, his thumb starting to firmly stroke her clit. Her hips rolled in time with his movement, fast and urgent. He wanted this fast.

"No." Imogen moaned, and Thor glanced up to see her arms tense and trembling, fighting the pleasure to keep still for her daughter.

Her body clenched tight around his fingers, and Thor grinned in satisfaction. It had been much too long he'd held off treasuring his wife, so fearful of hurting her. He wanted her to feel good now, to make up for it.

"_Thor!"_

The god leaned forward and pressed his hot mouth over where his thumb rubbed - and his aim was realised: Imogen let out a deep, throaty moan as she came hard around his fingers, coating his digits with her thick feminine cream. He kept his hand and mouth still, his fingers still curled against her to prolong her ecstasy for as long as possible.

Her body trembled as she whined quietly through her release, Shelby clutched safely to her chest.

Thor thought it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

His spare hand on her thigh ran gentle circles into her skin as she slowly came down from her high, sighing her breathing back to normal. Finally, her eyes peeled open and glanced down to see her husband staring up at her with dark, swirling orbs, lips quirked in a smirk between her thighs.

She shook her head at him. "You're so bad..." she sighed, although not in an altogether unhappy way.

Thor just grinned, and pressed a quick kiss over her clit as he slowly pulled his fingers out from her, glued stickily with her white essence. He just raised his eyebrows smugly, not ashamed in the slightest.

It was safe to say Imogen was a lot more relaxed now than she had been when she'd first come into the room. Thor noted this with triumph as his wife tucked her chest back into her robe, cradling her baby closely, pressing a kiss to the side of her daughter's tiny head. The only problem was the uncomfortable tightness of his trousers.

Imogen rose from the chair, still trying to secure the robe around her front, loose from the dislodged belt at her waist. Unsecured, the sides just kept falling open to reveal her, refusing to stay in place.

"Here. Let me take her." Thor offered, standing with his wife.

Imogen just shot him a look. "Fingers." was all she said.

Thor glanced down at his outstretched hands and shut his questioning mouth quickly. The stickiness. Oh. He did not want to get that on Shelby!

A part of him was disppointed as he watched Imogen cross back to the crib and replace the baby, wishing it could have been him. But he'd chosen to touch Imogen. He'd have to wait till morning to hold his baby girl. Maybe that was for the best anyway - tiredness was starting to blink his eyes.

Even Imogen gave a yawn as she turned back to him, padding softly as she closed the robe firmly around herself. "Sleep?" was all she murmured as she stepped into her husband's strong, open arms.

He pressed his lips down into the top of her head. "I think so."

Imogen didn't have the will to resist as Thor scooped her up, just snuggling her sleepy head into his chest as he carried her back through the door to the bedroom. Laying her gently down on the sheets, he was gone for mere seconds as he blew off the lamp and closed the nursery door, before he was settling down beside her.

She snuggled into the open haven of his arms, welcoming the gentle warmth. This was safe. For now, this was all they needed.

His lips pressed into the crown of her head as he willed her to sleep, ignoring the slight pressure in his groin. Perhaps it was better he'd kept his trousers on, keeping himself contained; they'd be up for the baby in a few hours anyway, and it wouldn't do for him to deprive his wife of her prescious sleep for the sake of his carnal desires.

He closed his eyes, his lips lingering against his wife's hair as they drifted into dreams of their old, carefree sex and the day ahead of them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"You can't pull a move like that in front of my parents today, Thor." Imogen warned as she tucked Shelby into a white baby suit. It was one of the one's she'd knitted herself. She was quite proud of it. Still, her eyes were serious as they levelled with Thor's across the bedroom, her bowed over the bed as she dressed their daughter. "Not like what you did last night. Not today."

Touching her while she fed her baby was ... morally debatable as it as, but in front of her _parents_...no, that was where she put her foot down. At least Shelby was unaware of what had been happening.

Thor just smirked at her, a grin so feral and sexy it almost made her forget herself and her seriousness - and just beg him to take her now. She held on to her composure and watched him finish the last adjustments to his armour before he gave her his full attention. "Are you commanding your prince?" he asked in a teasing voice, but one dripping with all the authority he rightfully possessed.

Like Imogen was intimidated. "Maybe I am." she said boldly. Unrelenting.

The growl rumbled powerfully through Thor's chest as his eyes darkened a handful of shades. Imogen didn't even have time to straighten up, let alone move before Thor strode forward and grabbed her, pulling her tightly to him.

She gasped as she came into hard contact with the cool metal plates of his armour, and the heat burning through his breaches from his erection. Her hips ground into it of their own accord, her lips parting in a silent appreciative sigh as Thor's hands held her tight and strong, looming in on her.

"And who's going to stop me?" he murmured, his lips millimeters apart from hers, hot breath breathing over her mouth tantilisingly.

They were late after all.

Imogen tried not to be too flustered as she walked with Thor through the Asgardian streets towards her parent's house. The only other time they'd made this journey was when she'd been his 'mistress'. She hadn't even slept with him back then. That was a whole year ago.

Since then, so much had changed. For her family, that was. The streets and the people were the same, but for her mother and father, so much was different from those days scrapping for medicine money.

Imogen glanced to Thor beside her; her mother was alive because of him, and probably only because of him.

His gaze was trained forward guardedly. Watching. Protecting. Imogen didn't really think that anyone would attack her out in the open, but there was no telling Thor that. This was different to the first time they'd come down this road. Now, she was a royal. Now, there were people that wished her greater harms than simply being banished from the palace.

"Don't be so cautious." she muttered, pressing her lips together. She turned to look head but still caught Thor's sharp glance. "If someone was going to do something they would have done it by now."

She appreciated the concern but... gods, could they not just act like a normal couple? He could put his arm around her - now _that_ would make her feel safe! Not this watchfulness of his, silent and foreboding. Last time they'd come this way they'd talked all the way...

Shelby let out a quiet whine and stretched out in Imogen's arms, restricted by the blanket they as wrapped around her. It momentarily distracted her mother from Thor's sharp gaze.

This wasn't right, she thought with a frown. They were married now, no more secrets and pretenses... but it didn't feel like they were a couple in love. More like a prince and his maid. Or a woman and her guard. Her heart sank with horror at the thought. What was happening to them?

She stopped in her tracks.

Her eyes stared ahead vacantly; she didn't want to go to her parents like this. She vaguely caught Thor stop a stride ahead of her, turning with a furrowed brow to his stilled wife.

Her heart skipped a beat, all of her feeling light and anxious as he took step back to her.

Then she felt angry. Her violet orbs swirled violently back to life as they burned and angled towards the approaching thunder god. Glancing past him, she spotted the cottage.

It was bigger than the last time they'd visited, their daughter's marriage to the prince granting them many riches. But they were humble folk. The only luxuries they allowed themselves was to make their home more comfortable. Her father still worked, even though he needn't bother if he didn't want to. Only he did want to. Her parents old fashioned ideals of work-for-what-you-have clung to them even now.

Imogen let her gaze move back to Thor, feeling the strength course through her inside. The weight of the baby in her arms only spurred her on.

"Stop it." she snapped. Thor's eyes blinked wide with surprise. He hadn't been expecting her to say that, whatever he'd thought. "If we go in that house, you'd better start to at least act content. I'll not have you make a fool of me in front of my own parents."

Why was it that they were always fine with each other.. until it wasn't just 'each other' anymore? As soon as they were in public, the tension between them thickened. Odd, Imogen thought. He'd been more than happy to parade her as his mistress but now as his wife... the shock was evident on his face at her blunt warning, but she hardly cared. She meant it. Her parents had been through so much this past eighteen months. She wasn't going to let Thor burden them again with whatever was darkening his mood.

The shock soon wore out though. "What is wrong with you today?" he growled, eyes darkening and narrowing. Yes, she thought, definitely angry. "You have been bitter all morning."

"Me bitter?" Imogen's eyebrows raised. "Who is the one who hadn't even so much as a word to me since we left the palace?"

"I am guarding your safety." Each word was crisp and stiff through gritted teeth.

His eyes were blazing. A part of Imogen quaked in fear, but she refused to give it surface. She would never afraid of Thor, no matter what he did. No matter how true it was. That was a defeat her pride would never allow to happen.

Her eyebrows wriggled challengingly. "I feel guarded all right." she said quietly, but knowing Thor heard every word. "But not for my safety."

For a dangerous quiet second Thor said nothing. His molten blue eyes swirled at her, highlighting his tested patience. Imogen waited for it to snap. When he was this still, this towering, there was no going back.

She waited for the explosion.

His gaze almost sent shivers of fear down her spine as it would any other man, but not her. She'd been pinned to the wall by an angry Thor once and she hadn't let her skipping heart show. She'd stared him down calmly. As she did now.

Thor's voice was low and deadly when he finally spoke, eyes brightening - but not in a good way. "You think I am not content?"

Imogen had barely taken in his raised eyebrows before Thor grabbed her arm, and Imogen had to cling to Shelby to keep her safety tucked to her. She let out a protesting groan though, squirming.

That alarmed Imogen. Whatever Thor had against her, she wouldn't let him harm Shelby. He was being too rough. "Thor, for gods' sake, Shelby-"

"So long as your clumsiness does not drop her she will be fine."

_Clumsiness?! _Her body numbed with what he'd said to her, her jaw dropping with so many cruel remarks that never found sound. Clumsiness... she was not clumsy! How dare he-

The dark threat was shoved out of her head with a twinge from her arm, and it pulled her eyes up. Her face paled when she saw where Thor was dragging her to - the barn. Shit. He knew about the barn - what had happened in there between her and - a quick, hard tug and they were at the door, Thor's single strong hand swinging it wide open effortlessly.

Words just couldn't describe her horror as Thor harshly released her, leaving her staring at three workers, open mouthed and just as shocked as she was.

"Leave us." was all Thor barked as he strode to the back of the barn, inspecting it.

Imogen didn't move. Her eyes flickered to the retreating men, suddenly feeling very vulnerable at being shut in alone with this angry god. The door thudded shut and she jumped harshly.

It was just as she remembered it. Not the tallest barn in Asgard - but one didn't want a tall building full of dried grass when there were the blacksmith's furnaces not far down the street. The hay was piled in sizeable mounts around the wall of the barn, until it reached the bars of the empty stalls along the back, though bales were scattered all around the floor.

They were alone, not even livestock to hear their argument as Thor, satisfied the barn was empty, turned back to her.

He looked enraged.

"What, pray tell, would suggest that I am ill contented?" he asked, taking long, lazy, slow strides towards Imogen.

She clutched Shelby closer nervously. His voice sounded so calm, but the tense jaw, the piercing eyes... they said otherwise. She stood her ground defiantly though.

"You're cold to me." was all she said, eyes leveling boldly with her husband's. It stopped him in his tracks. "Before we were married we walked down this same pathway arm in arm, smiling and laughing and..." her head shook, shaking the hurt from her orbs - they rose defiant and strong to Thor. "And now you can't even look at me."

He looked shocked. As in, bolt shocked. The anger was still there, but the tense jaw had dropped - literally - and the narrowed eyes were wide with what he was hearing. Imogen couldn't read it. What was he thinking?

He ran a hand over his mouth, closing it and screwed his eyes shut, like he was thinking hard. Imogen's heart raced as she waited.

When they snapped open again though, they were the eyes of a commanding king. "Put Shelby down on the hay." he said in a no-nonsense voice.

For once in her life, Imogen decided it was best to do as she was told: she crossed to the side of the barn to where the hay was safety bound and lay Shelby on top of it, clear away from the edge or from the dirty wall. Straightening up, she silently apologised to the baby that they couldn't have just had a normal day.

She turned back to Thor, unsure what was going to happen. Was he going to shout at her? Hit her? He'd never hit her before... but then she'd never upset him so before. She clenched her fists, holding on to her composure even though something inside her quaked when Thor advanced a step.

His eyes gleamed darkly. "I don't like being accused of such things, Imogen." he said quietly. "I cast aside pride and tradition to make you my bride and now you claim I regret that? I never regret choosing you."

His steps brought him closer, until he was right in front of Imogen, towering over her. She said nothing, glaring with her violet orbs. Her arms folded across her chest.

Thor's eyes flickered down to them. "Don't cross your arms at me." he warned.

Imogen's eyebrows danced coolly in reply. Her arms stayed in place. Her eyes said it for her: _make me_.

The spark of excitement jumped in Thor's orbs at her defiance. It took him back to when he'd first met her: proud, stubborn, defiant, argumentative... alluring. His eyes scoured over the rest of her. Her generous hip was pushed out more on one side than the other, her crossed arms pushing her generous chest up closer to the low v-shaped neck line of her dress. She was just so tempting...

The thunder god was soon clashed between anger and the tight, hot pressure in his groin. He remembered the last time he'd felt this way. Back in the corridor, after their first night together... he'd been so angry... and Imogen had been so pinned to the wall while he'd pressed his body against hers.

The wicked smirk started to cross his lips, eyes darkening with lust. Imogen's eyes blinked round with surprise but she didn't get a chance to say anything as Thor's hands reached for her, thudding her firmly against him. Her arms unfolded to brace against his chest as Thor held her to him, his erection digging into her belly. There was no way she couldn't feel that! Her eyes lowered and her lips parted, sucking in a shaky breath.

"Does this _feel_ like I am ill contented with you?"

Imogen didn't have the words to answer as Thor held her against him, one hand running down her backside. The loose material of her dress made it easy for him to dip his hand between her legs from behind, rubbing her core.

Her hips pushed against Thor's of their own accord, and she cursed her betraying body. It was a moot point though, as pleasure zinged through her.

Her lips parted in a heated sigh, eyes fluttering shut. Her hands found his biceps and she didn't want to see what sort of smug grin must be on his face at her reaction. Her knees were starting to feel weak.

A quiet gasp left her, hands clenching.

"Look at me."

His command was undenyable, and Imogen blinked her lustful orbs to his. Her heart dropped to her stomach at his angry blaze.

What? But he was-

"Would you prefer to be married to Elga's beloved instead?" Thor growled, his other hand working the hem of her skirt up her body. Imogen couldn't take her eyes off his burning orbs. "He touched you in this barn, did he not?" His fingers trailed tantilizingly up the inside of her thigh, until his digits finally reached her dampness. A whimper left her as Thor circled his finger around her core. His eyes were burning: "You think he could satisfy you better than I could?"

_No_, she screamed in her head. In reality though all she heard from her was the thudding of her heart, the quiet moan as Thor's finger pressed into her slightly.

Oh gods, he was going to drive her insane with want!

"I want you, Imogen." Thor went on huskily, wrapping the arm not between her legs around her back, hugging her to him. He propped her head under his chin, his hand cupping the back of her head to hold her in place. Suddenly, despite the fact that he was touching her, she felt very relaxed, loved, like they were just holding each other tenderly. "And if anything ever happened to you or to Shelby, I would never forgive myself."

Imogen's heart was working on overdrive. Okay, she could forgive that, the protectiveness. Fine - whatever - it was almost a moot point now as his finger tempted her between her legs, teased her...

She groaned. Okay, she understood now, she accepted it - would he please _just get on with it_?!

"I cannot afford to let my guard down." he rasped, pushing his finger into slightly deeper depths within her. "A moment of carelessness for a lifetime of sorrow. I need my senses alert, my hands free ..." His mouth dipped down to graze her ear tenderly. "And a simple touch of you always sparks a need for more."

Another moan left her lips. She could understand the need he was talking about. Oh, so desperately. Her hips rolled back, trying to prise him deeper into her body.

Her hands gripped at his arms, but his strong second skin armour was hard to the touch, denying her his skin.

"Like now." he rasped, hand on the small of her back pulling her closer, fisting with restraint. "I need you now."

"_Thor!"_

She wasn't sure if it was a gasp of protest or need as Thor's hands wrenched her up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He rushed her back, her arms wrapping around his neck as her thoughts were replaced with urgent bursts of _now, now, now! _

Her back thudded against the loose piles of hay against the wall, and she tore at the skirt of her dress, Thor's hands holding her up by the underside of her thighs.

One of them turned to push his trousers down his hips, and Imogen sighed as his hot need touched hers, his hands on her hips thudding her closer. Her hands hooked in the neckline of Thor's armour and used the to tug him down to her mouth for an urgent kiss as he drove into her, swallowing her cries.

"_You see_." Thor panted as he thrust into her, hard, fast and punishing. His eyes were burning hot coals, searing into her soul with desire. "_This is what you do to me_."

Imogen just gasped, the intensity of Thor's gaze and his thrusts just blowing her mind. He filled her so well, driving into her so good...

"Do you still think I don't care for you?"

A particuluarly accurate thrust had her whimpering, her lower body just quivering. Her inner muscles gripped him tight as he plowed into her, like she would die without him there.

His hand tore down the front of her low cut dress and palmed her exposed, aching breast, kneading it strongly. He wasn't holding back now.

A part of her vaguely remembered the workers waiting outside. If she screamed would they come to try and help? Would they think she was in danger? Her eyes rolled and she groaned hard at the thought, body clenching around her husband - this was _so_ not something she needed to be rescued from.

His fingers pinched her nipple, weeping with tiny white droplets. She would have been ashamed were it not for Thor's hips driving her into next century.

"Could he please you like this?" Thor growled, burning eyes demanding her gaze. "Did he make you feel this way?"

His mouth dipped down to her breast and Imogen cried out as she felt his teeth lightly tug on her nipple, her hips bucking hard against his. Her mind was just a jumble from the onslaught of pleasure she was recieving. If this is what he did when she doubted him... then, damn, she should get him mad more often!

His teeth pinched in a way that bordered on pain, Imogen's body thrashing. "Answer me." he snarled against her.

Her hands gripped his hair, not sure whether to tug him away or hold him closer as she tried to channel the heat flooding through her. "_Ah!_" she cried, feeling her lower body trembling already. "No."

She felt like she was breaking her body quivered so bad. But - _oh! _- he was just divine, conquering her like this. She clenched around him, every muscle in her body tensing as Thor's hips drove her higher and higher, her consciousness lifting lighter and lighter from her body until-

Her voice quivered in a strangled groan as she came hard, tears in her eyes from it's intensity. Oh gods... this was incredible! She felt light enough to be realms away as Thor slammed into her and stilled, and she vaguely felt the inner warmth of him emptying himself in her.

His rasps were hot on her breast as they both fluttered down to reality, trying to pull together their thoughts. He was still inside her.

Imogen's fingers started to comb through Thor's blonde hair as she returned to her body, breaths gasping through her lungs. She didn't want to move. Not yet. Lying on the hay with her husband inside her and leaning on her breast... yeah, she was pretty happy where she was.

At least Thor had been given back some of his rationality, even if she hadn't: his hand steadied her hip as he slowly eased out of her, the definitive sigh of his warning the end of her dreamy bliss.

His head lifted from her breast and tucked her back into her dress, fluttering the skirt over her legs as he stepped away. He tugged his trousers back up as he turned away.

"I think we've kept your parents waiting long enough." he said, his voice still sounding a little raspy.

Imogen tried not to feel too proud of that fact. She eased herself down from the hay and waited for her knees to stop trembling before she took a step forward. Then another. She slowly made her way to her husband and wound her arms around his waist from behind, his armour cool against her cheek.

She didn't care. He'd made her feel so... wow...

"So much for the honourable prince I thought I'd married." she murmured with a smirk, the flushed skin of her face steaming up the metal plates of his armour slightly.

His chuckle bobbed his body. She loosened her arms as she felt him turn and grinned up at him sly as he twisted in her hold until he faced her, and his arms were engulfing her rather than the other way around. He grinned wolfishly down at her. "Even we honourable princes succum to our most basic instincts when our stubborn wives test our patience so." He leaned down and pressed a cute kiss to her nose, before he straightened up and stepped back, arms melting from around her.

Imogen understood, as he turned to the barn door, running a hand through his hair; they really had left her parents waiting long enough now!

Thor's grin and sparkling eye met her before she could sigh with disappointment that their moment was over. He strode towards the door, passing her as he went. "Go and get your daughter, wench, so we can be on our way."

Imogen yelped as his hand made playful contact with her bottom and he threw a smirk over his shoulder, waltzing lazily to the door. How could she not just grin at that? That man...

She hurried to grab her baby before sunlight streamed back into the barn, and the sound of questioning voices caught her attention. The workers had been waiting after all, she thought as she walked to the door with Shelby in her arms, Thor clearly negotiating calmly with the small group of men he'd chased out earlier.

She walked over to join them. Thor glanced at her as she approached and his hand touched her shoulder gently. The workers followed his touch and the effect was incredible: when they saw Imogen - and maybe the tell-tale flush of her cheeks - a fair few just melted away with murmured apologies.

Only two remained. An older looking man who Imogen guessed had been in charge of the workers and a young man with shaggy dark hair and stubble.

Her brow dug in a frown. She knew this man.

His eyes lit up with surprise too as he recognised her, the smile stretching his thin lips. "Imogen?" he chuckled, eyes scouring her curiously. They lingered on the baby.

Thor's head snapped to Imogen so fast his neck clicked and she felt her cheeks flush. _Well, this is awkward_, she thought in her head with a sigh. She didn't need to glance up at Thor to know his eyes were dark, serious, maybe narrowed, but definitely demanding to know how this man knew her.

Her blush deepened. "Thor, this is Koli." Her eyes flittered up from the man's handsom face to her husband, forcing her face to stay impassive to his blazing eyes. Yes, exactly as she'd thought. Not impassive, she decided quickly, apologetic: her shoulders lifted in an awkward shrug. "Elga's beloved."

That sparked recognition. The anger drained out of Thor's eyes as he remembered the woman who he'd had locked in prison in Imogen's place for framing her... and her beloved. He glanced behind him at the barn. The smirk was already forming on his face.

Imogen fought the urge to roll her eyes. "Koli, this is Thor... my husband."

She'd caught the glint in the workers eyes and thought it was time to set the record straight. _That's right_, she thought as the man's eyebrows lifted, _husband_.

"I'd heard about that." he murmured, shifting his gaze to Thor, a little more respectfully than before. "So you are the man who put my woman in jail."

Thor stood his ground. "I hope there are no hard feelings about that."

Imogen could see the spark of possessiveness in his orbs at facing his old adversary. This was the man, without whom, he probably never would have met Imogen. The only one ever to touch her intimately besides himself... his thoughts strayed back to the barn and he couldn't fight the smirk again - yeah, he definitely won.

"None, my Lord." Koli shook his head, bowing it slightly. His hands clasped formaly behind his back, though his grubby grey shirt and trousers and grime stained face spoilt the image somewhat. "The law is the law."

Good answer, Imogen mused. She knew the question had been one to try and trip him up, making him fast choose either his loyalty to Thor or to Elga. Wisely, he'd chosen the former.

Still... she shifted awkwardly, knowing that Thor's thoughts were still lingering on the barn. On both encounters. She rolled her eyes: _men! _

She wasn't sure if Koli understood why Thor just smirked at him, lifting his eyebrows in a confident, superior expression, but she did, and Koli wisely didn't question it. Thor didn't say anything as his eyes roamed up and down the worker, sceptically.

His eyes said it for him, glinting with arrogance: _I'm better than you, _he thought proudly.

Imogen grinned as her husband turned from the worker and walked on towards the cottage. She could hardly say he was wrong after that, between her legs still tingling with well use! She trotted after her husband as smoothly as she could with Shelby in her arms, grinning like an idiot by the time she caught up with him.

Koli was well forgotten behind her.

"Satisfied?"

Thor just arched an eyebrow, though his gaze stayed forward. "Are you challenging my level of content again? Because if you are, I should warn you of the fallout. Though I would hardly complain, I don't think your parents would appreciate me taking you in the middle of their humble abode."

Imogen pressed her lips together in an amused smirk, trying to hold back the chuckles. When his eyes glanced down to her though, sparkling with mischief, she failed. She giggled like a little girl.

"That's better."Thor breathed as they stepped up to the cottage's front door, winding an arm warmly around her shoulders. "Let's not fight anymore today."

Imogen nodded in agreement as Thor rapped on her parent's door, smiling happily.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The cottage was a lot more to Thor's expectations than the last time he had visited. A drape hid the bed and sleeping area at the back of the house, while a fire sat blazing merrily beneath a pot in the center. All the small shutter windows were open to let out the smoke, but the homely smell of warm, cooking food filled the small space comfortingly.

It made Thor smile as he stepped inside, and Imogen's father closed the door behind him. The man was beaming, simply overjoyed that his daughter and granddaughter had come.

The prince's heart warmed to see the small family reunite as Imogen's mother rose from her place beside the pot and wrapped her daughter in warm arms.

"Thank you for taking the time to see us today." Aevar said beside Thor, smiling on softly upon the women as Imogen peeled back slightly to look down at the baby between her and her mother. Thor glimpsed little Shelby peeking out innocently.

Thor just nodded and clapped the man fondly on the back. "Come Aevar." he chuckled, turning to grasp his forearm in a firm, but warm grip. His bright blue eyes met his violet ones, the same shade as Imogen's. "We're family now."

He watched the blacksmith's smile widen. His hand grasped around Thor's forearm, his spare clapping on Thor's shoulder like he was greeting a son. "That we are." he agreed, happy twinkle in his eyes.

Thor let his grin widen. This man was the father of his bride, the man who had raised Imogen to who she was today... he liked Aevar a lot. Before he'd met Imogen he'd been fond of the blacksmith's work, but since her... not only did he have a Valhalla blessed daughter, but also a clever wit, a kind heart and a charming, playful personality.

It was only in recent months that Thor had been able to learn about Imogen's parents. Before their marriage, Aevar had been drawn and distant, and Imogen's mother wracked with sickness.

Now, seeing them both healthy and happy, Thor was able to learn more about them at last.

"It is good to see you so well, Volva." Thor said warmly as he turned to Imogen's mother, the pair switching parents. His hand cupped the woman's shoulder fondly as he pressed a kiss to her cheek. The echo of when she'd been on the brink of death was painfully clear in his mind.

But now... she looked like the sort of spirited woman that raised Imogen. Her hair was fiery red again, her cheeks fuller and less sunken since her illness had deserted her. A healthy red touched her cheeks, freeing her skin of it's deathly paleness. But what really did it was the smile, so full of energy and life...

"How's my precious little princess?" cooed Aevar behind them, Thor and his mother-in-law turning to find the blacksmith grinning shamelessly down at the baby in his daughter's arms.

Warm smiles bathed on Thor and Imogen's faces as they watched the man wave a thick finger to the tiny baby, beaming when she grasped it. Her round blue orbs stared curiously up at her grandfather. Thor couldn't fault the absolute wonder in the blacksmith's eyes, so entranced by such a little baby - he had been exactly the same after Shelby had been born.

Volva's hand touched fondly at his shoulder, and he could feel her smile. "How are you finding fatherhood?"

Thor couldn't tear his eyes from his wife and daughter, dreamy smile on his face. "There are good days and bad days." The god confessed. Regardless, his smile widened: "But the good more than make up for it."

He wouldn't trade a single day he'd had with Shelby. Not for anything. Still... he'd defeated entire armies and conquered cities and worlds without breaking a sweat, and yet one tiny baby had him fearing more than he believed possible! Shelby had opened him to a suffering - but one he loved.

Sleepless nights and panic that his little girl would never be happy enough to stop crying were far outweighed by the absolute joy that filled his heart everytime those beautiful blue orbs stared up at him curiously.

He was certain she was recognising him now. More and more often her eyes held less of the 'who are you?' surprise and more of the 'oh... something familiar' sort of comfort. It made Thor feel like the most powerful man on all of Asgard.

A blissful sigh breathed beside him. "She looks just like Imogen did when she was small." Volva sighed with a smile. "Only blonde."

Thor's smile widened. It was hard to imagine Imogen as a baby, as a child - as anything other than this wonderful tempting goddess he saw before him, who had carried and bore a child of her own. His child.

He was in a world of his own as Volva turned her attention back to the pot hovering over the fire. Everything seemed to move in slow motion; Aevar glanced to his calling wife from his grand daughter and with a reluctant smile, handed her back to her mother before joining his wife at the pot side.

Then Imogen smiled at him and his heart stopped. Her eyes never left his as she pressed a kiss to the side of Shelby's forehead, glittering like stars.

And Thor just couldn't hold back anymore.

He strode forward and wrapped an arm around Imogen's shoulders, pressing a kiss into her hair. His spare hand cupped Shelby, cradled to his wife.

She offered no resistance when his fingers slipped under hers, teasing the baby into his embrace. Thor smiled, as he dropped his arm from around Imogen and shifted Shelby more comfortably against him, holding her delicately.

She was awake, thumb in her mouth as her large round blue orbs stared up at him like jewels. Gods, she was so beautiful. He cradled her tenderly in the crook of his arm, just enjoying holding her. These were the 'good' moments. He clicked the image of his daughter's face in his mind and prayed he would never forget how truly perfect she was right at this moment.

His baby girl, his daughter. She would not inherit the kingdom - she'd be his to cherish for all eternity. To make feel special.

Thor was already planning it; her first horse and teaching her to ride, Imogen teaching her to sew, Thor happy to buy her jewellery and gowns and anything at all she desired... she would have everything. And Thor couldn't wait to give it to her.

Imogen wrapped her arms around his bicep and nuzzled her cheek against his armour, staring down at their daughter with him. They'd made something so perfect together...

"When is the coronation, Thor?" Aevar asked, across by the pot, drawing the god's attention.

Thor glanced up reluctantly, cradling Shelby firmer to compensate for it. The blacksmith was holding the bowls his wife ladelled stew into while he spoke, performing the task robotically almost.

The coronation... "Two moons from now." Thor sighed, the weighty thoughts on his mind again. Still, he forced the grin on his face, brightening his expression for his family-in-law. "Soon you will have no choice but to live in better living quarters, Aevar," his eyes sparkled teasingly. "Else deny the express command of your king."

It seemed that with Thor's marriage Odin had seen a new side grow within his son - one that was ready to take up the title he was born for. And Thor was terrified.

Still, he kept a smile for Imogen and her family's sake. He was just being weak, he told himself. The throne was something to leap for not be afraid of. All that power...there was a whole kingdom to protect, at stake. His treasured wife was part of that kingdom. And his daughter. He tried to only focus on them; to take up the throne so he might better protect them and make them happier. That was what kept him going.

A whole city of people he didn't know... or his family. He'd take up the throne as if he only need guard his two most valuable girls. He'd worry about the truth later. When there was no way to go back.

Aevar grinned, but Thor could see the refusal in his eyes. "While there is still strength left in my hands I will put them to good use."

The symbol of honest hard work, Thor thought as he watched Aevar. Even with his daughter to become a Queen and he was _resisting_ their royal aid. He liked to have everything he worked for, nothing more, nothing less.

Thor found it most admirable. Everything he had had been his by birth right. He'd never really had to work outside of battles and he simply enjoyed them too much to call it work.

His eyes fell down to Imogen as she helped place the bowls and plates of bread in a circle on the floor, for them to sit.

Would he have her if he were just a normal man? He wouldn't have been able to offer her what he had. The money, the position ... would he have been able to woo her as a commoner? Would they even have met at all?

It was something that he'd realised and kept in his mind about his royal status. Without it, there would be no Imogen. No Imogen meant no Shelby. His whole life rested on his position. And now he need advance it.

Before Imogen, he'd been eager for kingship. The power, the glory, the battles he would lead... not anymore. Now he dreaded the thought of war. War was danger - a danger he didn't want threatening his family. And what if he were to be killed? He wasn't just his to lose anymore. Imogen would lose a husband. Shelby would lose a father, as would all the countless other children Thor hoped to one day have with his wife.

And he'd seen hardship. He'd seen Imogen's mother sick. When she was ill it had been him that had ensured her wellfare. For one woman it was achievable. But a whole kingdom? That was a huge responsibility to ensure the kingdom worked well enough to keep them all well, fed and warm, all on his head.

Thor was forced to put Shelby down as they sat to eat, spreading out her blanket and letting her squirm to her hearts content. She looked happily oblivious in her own world.

She had no way of knowing that in two moons time she would be a princess. That every girl would grow up wishing they were her and every boy wishing they could have her. Which they wouldn't. Ever. Thor wouldn't let his precious daughter be taken from him. No one could look after her better than her father could.

He stroked her cheek still, even as he proped his bowl of soup in his lap and began to eat, not able to take his eyes off her. _I'm going to be king for you_, he thought in his head, smiling at her. _Everything, for you..._

"How's business, Aevar?" Thor asked, not wanting to ignore his company. His eyes flickered up to the man opposite him.

The blacksmith grinned. "It is booming." he chuckled, glancing to his wife, who just pressed her lips together in a smirk. "The father-in-law of the to-be-king is very sought after in his trade."

Thor chuckled. Another person his status had helped. He guessed he had a lot to be thankful for, things he'd just taken for granted until Imogen had come and changed his life.

"We bumped into Koli on the way here." Imogen said beside him, flickering her husband a grin. Her thigh pressed subtly against his.

You would have to be blind to miss the dark look that crossed Aevar's face, only making Imogen's grin widen, a giggle leaving her. Volva's eyes rolled beside her husband.

Aevar dug his spoon into his soup as if trying to beat something inside it to death, his mouth thin and his voice tense: "I thank the gods every day that you saved my daughter from that wretch, Thor." His head shook bitterly. "Every day."

Thor blinked, lifting his eyebrows. He hadn't expected that. "He seemed a decent enough man to my eyes."

He didn't like the man. Gods knew he'd be more than ready to tear him to pieces if he so much as winked at Imogen, just based on the knowledge of how he'd touched her in the past. But the comtempt he saw in the blacksmith's face was something he hadn't expected of Aevar. Thor had never heard him speak a bad word of anyone. It just wasn't in his nature.

"On the surface, yes." Aevar agreed, his eyes lifting. He pointed his spoon at Thor in his frustration to emphasise his point. "But he is wicked in heart. Insensitive." His head shook, eyes brushing away. "He is not _waiting_ for Elga as he so claims. He has been spreading himself with the local women since the day she was locked away."

Well...Thor couldn't argue with that. And that man had the decency to walk around with his held high? To look Thor in the eye as if he were an honourable man...

No. Thor agreed with Aevar.

"Then perhaps they deserve each other." he said, matching Aevar's bitter tone.

He remembered the woman he'd ordered Elga to prison. He remembered her clearly. Her sentence had been extended by months since her original condemnation. Apparently she'd been hysterical the first few weeks, cursing Thor and Odin with screams. Such insults weren't taken lightly.

Added on to that, her older sabotage attempts for Imogen had been unveiled and her sentence extended still. She'd just over doubled her original sentencing.

She was due to be released soon. Thor wasn't sure when the exact date was, but he knew it was coming. And then, he'd have her dismissed from the palace service and sent back to her parents and snake of a fiance to do with as they so choose fit. She wouldn't be their problem anymore. A part of him pitied her for her year in jail... but then he remembered it was earned by her own doing, her own fault.

"I dread to think of what I would have done to him if he'd got his hands on my daughter." the blacksmith growled, drawing Thor out of his thoughts.

His eyes flickered instinctively to Imogen. Thankfully Aevar's eyes were still lowered - else he would have seen the burning flush on his daughter's cheeks. Thor fought down his smirk.

If only Aevar knew Koli had already had his way with his precious daughter. Hadn't defiled her, but had certainly had his lustful fill back in that barn who knew how many summers ago.

Then again, if he knew what _Thor_ had done to her in that barn not an hour ago...

"It is passed now." Thor cleared his throat, trying to move the subject on. He put a bright smile on his face and swept it between his parent-in-law. His hand reached back and reconnected with his daughter, thumb stroking her cheek tenderly. "Let us look to the future."

He focussed his eyes on Aevar and the blacksmith met him levelly, eyes still dark. Thor didn't let up. His serene blue eyes locked with his elder's until the anger started to ease from the violet orbs. Finally, a smile quirked at the blacksmith's lips.

He set his bowl down with a clatter and leaned forward, elbows on his needs. He eyes never left Thor. "Asgard is fortunate to have such a man as you to be its king." he said proudly. "_We _are fortunate. You have given us so much as a family, and for that we are eternally grateful."

"Father..." Imogen mumbled, cheeks flushing.

Aevar didn't relent. "No, Imogen, I must say it." he insisited, fixing his solid eyes on his daughter. "It has been building in my heart since the day he first visited this cottage. Think where we would be without him. You would be motherless. We would be poor. Chances are you would have been pregnant with Koli's illegitimate child rather than Thor's." His gaze shifted back to the prince, feeling his heart thud hard and fast under the blacksmith's scrutiny. Aevar wouldn't lose his eye though, forcing Thor to see the gleaming, strong violet depths for himself. "We owe him our lives."

Thor glanced around and found it wasn't just Aevar staring at him; Imogen was too, as was her mother, both with somewhat glistening eyes. The sigh huffed from his body, shoulders slumping. His own bowl met the floor with a clatter as he reached an arm for Imogen's shoulders and eased her close to his side.

She curled up against him like he was her comfort, letting his arms engulf her. She was tense - fighting the emotion to save face in front of her parents, Thor knew.

Thor pressed his lips together in a modest smile, one he angled towards her parents. "You must stop this, Aevar." he chucked, glancing his eyes down to the wife he hugged to his chest. "You're not my subjects anymore, you are my family. And I would like to treat you as such."

No sooner had he lifted his eyes to his father-in-law than his attention was called behind him, Shelby letting out a little sneeze. Thor's heart clenched - it was just so adorable!

He and Imogen parted as they both turned behind them, matching smiles on their faces. This was it, he thought. No matter how much Aevar thought Thor had done for them, through Imogen, he believed they'd done him a much greater favour. And now with their daughter...

He reached back and scooped up his baby girl, smiling down at her lovingly. "You should take her example, Aevar." Thor grinned teasingly. "This little one has no qualms about taking advantage of me or her mother."

His heart warmed as his father and mother-in-law chuckled, feeling the air ease at last. It was good to be carefree for a while. No coronation, or duties to worry about - just having a good time with his family. He smiled down at the baby girl that was at the center of his world with absolute wonder, feeling her tiny form move against him, trying to beat her little fist against him.

This was what mattered. This was what kept him going. Everything, for the sake of his precious little daughter,

"Oh yes." he mused softly, stroking Shelby's cheek tenderly with the pad of his thumb. "Everything's going to be alright." he breathed calmly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Thor's head was in his hands as his wife paced up and down the bedroom, he himself perched on the edge of the bed dismally. He could feel Imogen's fury coming off her in waves.

"My hands are tied, Imogen." he insisted with frustration. He was just as outraged about this as she was. His eyes lifted to hers, filled with a burning spirit of anger to match hers. She just glared at him, as if it were his fault. His choice. It wasn't. "What can I do?"

_That damned court._..spite was their latest tactic. They disapproved of Imogen so much that they'd resorted to pure humiliation, bullying her into submission. Thor could feel the wound they chipped in his wife's heart - but her outrage drowned it out for now, burning madly. Imogen stopped her pacing, wild eyes blazing at her husband. Her hair whipped round her face beautifully. Now wasn't the time though.

"You're going to be king and yet you can't do anything?!" she screeched manically. Thor ran a hand over his face in exasperation. "How ridiculous is that?"

Thor fought to control himself. He was as offended as Imogen by this... but there was nothing he could do. "The court is important in our kingdom, Imogen. I cannot simply forsake them." he said as calmly as he could manage, his voice stiff.

It was the nature of their politics. A blessing and a curse. The king was the sovereign, always, but...he wasn't alone. The court was designed to be a group who spoke on behalf of the kingdom.

And in that sense it was 'the kingdom' that had elected for Thor to have a new mistress.

The thought weighed heavily on his heart. "The nobles are there to advise me and such an act is customary for a great many rulers as it is-"

His wife's eyes were thunderous as she stepped closer to him. "So they have the power to dictate who you share your bed with now, do they? I can't believe you're doing this..."

Imogen lifted her hands to her raven hair and raked her fingers through, screwing her eyes shut. She had to get a grip. Shelby was just a door away. She didn't want to upset her.

But Thor was getting a new mistress. That upset her greatly.

The thought of her husband having sex with another woman, leaving her cold and alone in their bed... it was wrong. It felt cruel.

Not that he seemed to be jumping at the idea - just one look at his troubled face, hid in his hands for half the evening in frustration told her that! But it wasn't enough. Imogen wasn't a submissive wife, wasn't going to be told what to do and just take it. Especially not this. She would not just roll over while the court told her it was okay for her husband to go and sleep with any other woman he chooses.

What if he has a child by another? The thought suddenly flitted coldly through her and she froze with horror. No.. she couldn't imagine that. _She_ wanted to carry Thor's children. She didn't want to share.

She hugged her arms around herself and lowered her arms, feeling the emotion well up as the realisation hit her. Thor was _her_ husband. _Her _man. _Hers_. She ran it through her mind stubbornly, like a child: she didn't want to share him. Her eyes burned with betraying tears and she rubbed them away furiously.

"Hey," Thor breathed, rising to his feet. His hands were outstretched, ready to take her in his arms. Imogen let him, savouring as much of him as she could. "It will be alright." he soothed.

She buried her face into his chest and let the pearly tears roll over her cheeks and onto Thor's armour, but she didn't make a sound. She wouldn't dignify her misery with sobs. She relished the feel of Thor's arms tight around her, embracing her. She needed him, more than she cared to admit.

"They want me to go to her tomorrow night." he finally said, thumbs stroking soothingly into the backs of her shoulder blades.

It did little to reassure her though. Imogen tried not to flinch at his words. So soon. The idea of him casting her aside so soon... she screwed her eyes shut. "Will you lie with her?" She had to know. She had to brace herself.

Thor paused, and Imogen held her breath.

She bowed her head further into his chest as a fresh wave of anguish arose and threatened to break her.

Suddenly, Thor's arms fled from around her and his hands moved firmly to her shoulders, holding her firm as he dropped to one knee before her. There was no ignoring him as he knelt right into her field of vision and Imogen forced herself to pull together, to compose herself. She sniffed and averted her eyes.

"Imogen, look at me." Thor ordered softly. Imogen ignored him; she couldn't. Thor reached up instead and cupped her face, angling her back down to him. Once his soft, glistening blue orbs held hers, there was no escaping it. "Listen to me, Imogen." he said calmly, holding her gaze gently. "I will not sleep with her. I will not sleep in the same bed as her. Whatever transpires between me and her will not jeopardize our marriage. This I swear."

Her head was shaking before she realised it. She was mildly shocked when she did. Did she not believe him? Was she expecting him to be unfaithful to her with this... harlot?

_Well, he was a man_, a voice argued in her head. And she was not the temptress she used to be.

Her gaze lowered shamefully over her post-pregnancy body and knew that she was nothing to compete with this inevitably younger, more attractive, slimmer girl. Her stomach still had tiny rolls from bearing Shelby, no longer as smooth as it had been before. A pinch of weight clung to her hips and waist in a way it hadn't before, weight she was finding very stubborn to move.

No wonder the court was giving Thor a new mistress. How could he possibly be attracted and satisfied with her when she looked like this?

She didn't know what to say. She knew what would happen tomorrow: Thor would go to that woman's room. He would sleep with her. And Imogen would be left here alone, crying until her heart broke. She'd never cried over a man before. But she'd never felt this sort of pain.

What could she say? That it was okay? No, that wasn't true. It wasn't okay? That wasn't her place, wasn't her call. Thor was her prince as well as her husband. She couldn't stop him.

"I hate that court." she muttered bitterly, clenching her fists at her sides. "They hate me that much..."

Her eyes glared at the floor, trying to hold her jaw strong. This was their doing, and she wasn't going to let them break her. Not them. She would not let them win. Thor had chosen her as a wife, she'd bore him a child... she'd be damned if she was just going to let this happen to her.

Her heart clenched painfully in her chest as she lifted her head slightly, lifting her eyes to her husband's knelt glittering orbs. Her's were strong now.

Well, she was never very good at playing by the rules. She would not be the timid little wife who stayed passive while her husband slept with countless mistresses, as the court would wish her to be. She wasn't passive, full stop. What had drawn Thor to her in the first place?

Her spirit.

She met Thor's eye boldly, her mind made up. She wasn't playing by the courts rules. She'd beat them at their own game.

"You're right." she said softly, pulling her lips in a small smile. "You won't sleep with her. You won't share a bed with her." she let her smile drop, her eyes glaring warninngly into Thor's. She felt his hand twitch on her cheek, watched his brow furrow at her sudden hostility. "Because I'm going to be there to make sure you don't."

XXX

Shelby or no Shelby?

It had been a wrench to decide whether to bring the infant along too. The baby would need feeding and comfort at some point in the night, but then again... Imogen wasn't sure it would be the right environment for her. Gods only knew how she'd react to the woman who was trying to have sex with her husband in her place, and vice versa. Just thinking about it made Imogen's eyes narrow with anger.

But she had to come in the end, cradled in Imogen's arms and she and Thor walked down the corridor. If she did need Imogen then she'd have no choie but to leave Thor and the harlot alone and Imogen didn't trust that. She loved Thor and knew he loved her ... but she knew he was a man. Knew how far his lusts could reach. She remembered how she'd teased him before they were married, how she'd driven him insane with want for her...the witch would do the same if she had any sense and Imogen didn't trust Thor's chances very much.

The god looked sheepish, almost embarrassed as he walked with her, the light dark in the corridors as the sun fell into night outside. "The court are not going to like this, Imogen." He warned beside her in a dark voice.

Imogen's heart did sumersaults of happiness. "Of course not." she agreed, a spring in her step. "Why do you think I'm doing it?"

An exasperated sigh was all that answered her and she just smiled smugly to herself. One-nil to her. This would be a night none of them would forget in a hurry.

If the court thought they could subdue her like this they'd have another thing coming. Whatever they planned, Thor would not be having sex tonight - unless it was with her. Whatever girl they'd picked out for the job would go unsatisfied tonight, that much was certain.

"What are you going to do?" Thor growled. "Tear her hair out? If you make a scene..."

"Don't worry." she replied smoothly, glancing him a mischevious eye. "I won't be as subtle as that. She needs to know her place."

Another sigh. "Now this I have to see."

Imogen just pressed her lips together in a smirk. She was looking forward to this too. Changing the tide was always exciting. She was keen to get one over the court at last.

She and Thor turned the final corner and Imogen eyed the door near the end, growing closer with every step.

"You shouldn't have brought Shelby." Thor grumbled. "This is not suitable business for an infant to be involved with. She should have stayed in her room."

Imogen didn't look at Thor. Her eyes were locked on _the door_, just like her husbands. "_She _should see the family she's destroying if she chooses to try and proceed with this." she justified quietly. If this harlot was going to sleep with Thor it would have drastic consequences, and Shelby would be affected. Imogen wouldn't allow that, wouldn't allow her baby to get hurt.

They said nothing as they approached the door, neither of them with words to say. The truth of the situation was suddenly weighing heavily upon them both.

Imogen paused a few strides before Thor and he wondered slowly to her other side. Both just stared at the door, as if it would magically open. Imogen didn't want it to open, didn't want to believe this was real. Her eyes hardened, mouth thinning; it was real. It was war.

"Knock." Imogen ordered bluntly to Thor, nodding at the door.

For a moment, Thor just stared at her sharply, brow furrowed. "What? I thought you-"

"Yes, but you should knock." Imogen waved in, cutting him off. She nodded back to the door again. "Go on. Knock. Knock like you mean it."

Wow... she really was a horrible person, she thought to herself as Thor's hand reluctantly lifted to the door. He knew just as well as she did what she was doing - stabbing the knife in deeper. She was not just willing to upset and hurt the girl behind the door, but was _trying_ to.

A part of her felt guilty. Another part of her was rolling her imaginary sleeves up for the battle to win her husband back.

That part was winning.

Thor ran his knuckles softly over the door, satisfying Imogen's 'knock like you mean it' command. She could just imagine the girl's eager, excited face behind it.

_Too bad_, she sighed sweetly in her head. She fixed a polite smile on her face. She didn't need to worry; she would win this. Her heart thudded with adrenalin as they waited to be admitted.

They weren't waiting long.

Imogen fixed her battle face - painfully sweet smile, but hard, warning eyes - as the door opened coolly, the girl behind slowly peeling into view.

The first thing Imogen noticed was her lack of attire. The girl, fair haired and slim, was dressed in a see through night dress down to her high thighs, thin strips of solid material covering her modesty. Just.

Imogen heard Thor suck in a subtle breath beside her. She guessed the girl must look awfully tempting to a man. Though she wasn't sure if Thor's tension was really due to resisting or the anxiety as to what _Imogen_ would do. He had good reason to be wary.

Imogen ran her eyes shamelessly up and down the girl, jaw clenching.

The girl's sultry expression dropped in a heartbeat. Smooth smile and smokey eyes were replaced with blunt shock as she stared at Imogen and the baby.

Her mouth dropped in an 'o' of surprise. Imogen clocked a point in her favour in her mental log. "I... don't understand..." the girl started.

Yes, she was young, Imogen noted. Slim, bordering on skinny. But her curves were slightly dull, Imogen's hips, waist and bosom holding a much more feminine curve. The poor girl barely had anything for the top layer of solid clothing to hide.

Thor didn't say anything. Imogen felt him look to her to proceed.

She lifted her eyes to the girl's confused ones, and refreshed her smile. Imogen stepped forward and strode past the girl into her room, as if it were her own. "You should put a robe on, dear." she called over her shoulder, making sure to emphasise the sway of her hips as she walked towards the bed. Turning, she perched herself on the edge slowly, pushing her hips and backside out subtly, just how she'd teased Thor when she'd seduced him. Her expression was sweet as sugar though as she made herself comfortable, crossing her legs. "You'll catch a cold."

Imogen noted the dark, 'don't push your luck too far' warning look Thor was giving her as he closed the door quietly behind him.

"I don't understand." the girl repeated, frowning between the prince and his wife with absolute confusion written on her face. Finally, she focused on Thor, hands meeting in front of her lap respectfully. "I did not realise you would not be coming alone, my Lord." her head bowed.

Still, Imogen smirked when the caught the dismayed look on her face, hidden from Thor by a subtly placed curtain of blonde curls. So she was getting to her. Perfect.

Across the room, Thor crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his broad shoulders back against the wall. Imogen read his body language: _do what you want, but I will not be a part of it. _He was leaving the battle between the women. "Don't look at _me_." he growled, not taking his burning eyes off Imogen.

Imogen didn't falter when the girl turned her eyes to her, obviously despising her presence. Well, she had expected to screw the prince tonight. Of course she was angry his wife was here.

Imogen didn't back down under the girl's gaze. Like she would ever! She did the opposite; slowly, she rose to her feet from the bed, uncrossing her legs. She would not be intimidated by a girl over her own husband. Thor wasn't the court's to deligate - he was hers.

"Thor," she said softly, feeling her anger quietly rise the longer she stared at the challenging girl. "Take Shelby please." She didn't want the little girl in the middle of all this. If her anger got control somehow, all hell would break loose. She wasn't about to land Shelby in the middle of all that.

Thor dragged himself off the wall and gently took his daughter without a word, cradling and rocking her softly in his arms. He went back to the wall.

Arms free, and restrictions gone, it was Imogen's turn to cross her arms. She let her emotions course through her, hardening her eyes, shifting her weight onto one leg as she ran a distasteful gaze up and down the girl. She was gearing up for a different type of war than the sort that Thor fought.

Her eyes finally lifted to the girl's dark brown eyes. "What did the court instruct of you?" Imogen asked in a deathy quiet voice.

The girl flushed. Imogen's patronising question remained unanswered for a silent moment, as the girl's eyes dipped down. "I... er..." her eyes flickered to the sides, and Imogen knew they were searching for Thor, though the girl was too proud to make it obvious. "I was told to lie with the prince and satisfy him." she finally mumbled.

_Lie with the prince and satisfy him_... the world swirled round in Imogen's head. "That's not going to happen." she said bluntly, taking a step forward. "There's only one person that satisfies him and that is me. His wife. All you shall be doing tonight is preparing yourself a bed on the floor and sleeping there. Understood?"

She felt powerful. Assertive. Telling this girl exactly her place empowered her. This energy would definitely need burning off in more passionate ways with Thor later...

The girl's head stayed lowered. "Yes, my Lady." she muttered.

"Good." Imogen smiled. Her arms relaxed to her sides. "I shan't learn your name because we shall not be seeing each other again. Any of us. Do you understand?"

What could the girl do but agree? To fight with Imogen, even to talk back... that would not bode well in her favour. Especially with Thor present. The court may not like her, but Imogen was still Thor's wife, sharing his rank. A slight against her would be against Thor too.

And he would not tolerate that.

Imogen watched the girl grit her teeth with seething fury, but there was nothing she could do about it. She had no choice but to submit.

"My name is Linda." she finally forced out in a tense, stiff voice, eyes burning into the floor. "Daughter of the Inkeeper's family." Her orbs flickered up to Imogen's and all the mirth within shone darkly. "Elga's sister."

Imogen felt her blood chill, ice washing through her system. The blood drained from her face in a heartbeat. Elga... the one who had framed her in the courts a year ago...

Anger stabbed deep in her heart and she felt her control slip. Her hand rose and slapped across the girl's face with a definitive crack, the sharp sound of skin on skin echoing painfully through the room. Thor watched on, alert, but still and silent. This _whore _was Elga's sister!? Imogen stared up and down her with new found disgust.

This was beyond insult on the court's behalf. This was ... Linda's head stayed to the side, blonde curls strewn across her cheek from the whip of her face.

"Imogen."

Imogen didn't expect the dark growl from Thor, and glanced beyond Linda, catching her husband's eye. Dark. Warning. He had Shelby draped over his shoulder, his hand cupping the back of her head protectively. Almost like he was shielding her from the negativity.

Almost instantly, Imogen felt something inside her snap. With regret. Sort of. The girl needed putting in her place... but she felt bad about her little girl being exposed to it. Thor had been right. This really was no place for a child. She wanted Shelby to grow up in a loving way; not listening to her mother slapping servants, being hurtful...

She swore in her head. In reality though, all she did was sigh heavily, lifting a guilty hand to ruffle her hair. "I..."

Linda barely glanced over her shoulder at the god before she aside, giving him uninterupted passage to his wife. Thor strode forward to Imogen, close.

Her eyes moved to his less than happy face. Then her pride kicked in. "I'm not sorry." she said bluntly. She didn't flinch as Thor juggled Shelby with one arm, his spare hand grasping the side of her neck. Not enough to hurt, but firmly, letting her know he was taking control.

She caught a flash of his burning, lustful eyes as he moved his lips in beside her ear. "Do you have any idea how much I want you right now?" he hissed.

_Oh gods._ Imogen's nether regions clenched at his deep words, her heart skipping a beat. Gods, she wanted him. And she didn't care if the little trollop was watching. Of course he was aroused by her spirit! That was what had drawn him in the first place, hadn't it? Her hand rose to play with the hair at the back of his neck, just holding him close for a moment.

Linda was at the wrong angle to see Imogen's spare hand creep low, and grasp her husband below the belt. She caught Imogen's sparkling eye though.

Thor's gasp was simply magical, and Imogen could feel the heat of his arousal leaking through onto her palm. Her hips itched to tease forward to touch his. She revelled in the ragged breath her husband breathed over her ear, feeling her affect.

Gods, this was so _hot. _"Then have me." she sighed back, brushing her lips over the shell of his ear teasingly.

The strong hand trailed down from the side of her neck and Imogen only pushed her curves welcomingly into his touch, as his palm ran over her breast and waist. The girl in the corner of the room was as good as forgotten.

Thor leaned in and his lips replaced where his hand had been on Imogen's neck, kissing her lovingly. She leaned her head away to give him better access. "You wish for me to show my devotion to you?" he kissed into her skin. She felt his teeth nip her as he grinned, drawing a gasp from her. "You want another barn incident?"

Imogen truggled to catch her breath. Thor's lips on her neck, his hand rubbing circles into her waist, the way his knee hudged between hers ... her hand fisted in his hair. "As long as _she_ sees."

Her head jerked to the side, to where Linda was sulking against the wall, and Thor's mouth grazed off her to look. She felt his teeth as he grinned. And here she'd thought Thor would be appalled at the idea! Perhaps he was just as keen to rebuke the courts plots just as she was, in any way they could. And making love to his wife, in front of his mistress, in her place, would defitely be a rebuke.

She heard the rasp in his voice, and shared it; she was excited by this too. Being watched... they would have to make this damned good sex to make Linda jealous! "How much?" the god breathed huskily, before his lips returned to treasuring her neck.

Imogen thought about it...then made up her mind. Her hands yanked in his hair and tore Thor's head from her neck, till he was face to face with her. His eyes were crystal pools of swirling want, making the place between Imogen's legs moisten. She held him still, watching his desire for her as her lips hovered barely apart from his.

Her eyes met his. Some night there was straight, energy burning sex. Others there was time, effort, whole nights of passion. Imogen knew which she wanted now: "Give me _everything_."

She _felt_ more than heard the animalistic growl from Thor's lips, and gasped as it was his turn to grasp her hair. His lips crashed down hungrily on hers. She was next to helpless as his mouth devoured hers, tasting every ounce of his hot desire and sharing it. She wanted him in her. So badly...

She felt her patience and resolve crumble. She wasn't going to waste any time claiming her husband.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Thor was so hard for his wife it hurt, but he forced himself to slow down. At this rate, he'd shove Imgen down on the bed, tear her clothes off, and claim her as his even with their baby daughter still in his arms.

That wouldn't do.

Imogen wanted everything he had, not just some quick, mindless fuck. It would be hot... but she wanted more. She wanted him to treat her like he would have Linda, to explore her in every possible way like she was something new to him, for the slow, steady build up of passion to just consume them.

And leave Linda twitching with want of satisfaction by the end of it, knowing Thor would never be the one to give it to her.

Thor brushed his lips off Imogen's and tried to get his breath back. She did the same, laying her head down against his breast plate, misting up the metal with her gasps.

His fingers rose to run through her hair as he eyed up the bed behind her. It wasn't huge, but it was gracious, easily large enough to accomodate the prince and another, with room spare. It was hard to tell its comfort, but it mattered little, and he doubted it would be bad if it had been planned for him, the prince, to sleep in it, to entice him to this new woman. And now he would happily share it with his wife instead.

He planted a kiss to the crown of her head before he pulled away, remembering the child in his arms at last. He strode around her to the bed and ripped the sheet from the mattress, tossing it on the floor across the room from Linda. He could feel her watching every move he made, sulking in the corner bitterly. He didn't care as he settled his daughter down on the laid down sheet, kissing her forehead softly.

"Just you stay asleep." he murmured to the baby. "Sleep through all this, for the love of Odin's beard. _Stay asleep_."

He knew she couldn't understand him, but it couldn't stop him willing his words onto her. He did not want to have to break his and Imogen's lovemaking to tend to his child. That would only score points on Linda's front.

He was still kneeling when he felt Imogen's hands on his neck, running them over his shoulders and arms, though he scarcely felt them through his armour.

_Well, he couldn't have that_, he murmured in his head with a smirk. He stood and turned - and Imogen was in his arms effortlessly. She looked so small, with his muscled arms surrounding her, drawing her in close. She smiled up at him, eyes glittering like violet stars. Gods, that girl had nothing on her! His wife was a goddess.

His smirk flickered over his lips and he drew his hands back to her hips, just.. staring. Gods, he had the whole night to do whatever he wanted - as much as he wanted! - with this woman ... where did he start?

His hands roamed up, not kissing her; he wanted to look into her eyes as he touched her. His palms ran smoothly up her waist and curves, and he saddled sidewards slightly, so Linda could see exactly what she was missing out on. His hands stayed on the side of her torso as he stretched his thumbs up to Imogen's breasts, brushing over her nipples.

He grinned at her intake of breath as her nipples hardened under his circling touch, pressing against the fabric of her gown. Her hand rose to his armoured bicep.

"I think we need to get you out of this." she gasped, his thumbs still enticing her breasts. Her other hand steadied on his arm, longing to feel his warm skin instead of the cold snake skin armour.

Thor's grin widened. He stepped back from Imogen, returning her senses as his hands fell from her chest. He spread his arms out to the sides, triumphant arrogant smirk on his face. "Very well, my lady." he grinned. "Have at it."

Imogen's eyes fluttered at him as she accustomed to being without his touch, watching them swirl with burning lust. Her lips flickered in a grin.

She wasted no time stepping up to his armour and tapping the secret spots of it. Then she stopped. Her mind ran for a moment - then she lifted up on her toes, her lips by Thor's ear. He bent to listen. "Maybe we could use_ her _for this." she breathed, glancing over her shoulder at the girl as she did so. Linda's face soured even more when she caught the royal couple staring at her.

Thor's hand steadied on her back, pulling her flush with him. Still... "You are a wicked little vixen." he murmured, feeling his loins swirl with lust. His hand tightened on her. "But I _love _it."

Imogen beared her teeth in a feral grin, as her eyes met her husband's, sharing the same dirty thought. Well, they had a servant at their disposal. Why not use her? Imogen rolled her sweetly batting eyes to the sulky girl in the corner. "Get over here." She said, reaching her hand out to the girl. Thor caught back her hand, his fingers curling over hers as he drew them to his lips. She giggled as he kissed her hand, but stuck to their plan. "Take his armour off."

At first Imogen wasn't sure if Linda would obey, just stood there glaring for a moment at the couple. Then she reluctantly unfolded her arms and stepped forward.

With that, Thor attached his lips to Imogen's neck and kissed her, nipping with his teeth. She giggled again and threw her head back to give him better access. She was glad for Linda's slow sulky steps as Thor started sucking on her neck, bruising the skin to leave a lasting mark. She moaned happily, feeling the space between her thighs moisten.

"I don't know how." growled through Imogen's bliss, and she realised Linda must be right behind Thor.

It was confirmed when she fluttered her eyes open and stared over Thor's shoulder as he continued to ravish her neck. She glared impatiently. "Then figure it out." she forced out as calmly as she could. "I don't want to have to wait long for my husband."

"And nor I for my wife." Thor growled warmly against her neck. Imogen giggled again.

All the same, she knew she'd be waiting for half her life for Linda to work out how to work Thor's armour. Even she'd had to learn under Thor's direction, and that was _after_ watching him remove it himself countless times. She sighed, and wrapped her arms around Thor's body as he kissed her skin obliviously.

The girl behind him looked miserable.. but Imogen didn't care. "Here." she said, finger pointing to a key point in Thor's armour. Linda tapped at it, and Imogen felt the metal loosen around her husband's torso.

Imogen murmured her guidance as her hands rose to Thor's hair, his hands roaming around her body shamelessly. She was starting to lose track of sensible thought. Her knees weakened as she felt his hands massage her waist and hips, trailing down over her backside.

She gasped as he yanked up the hem of her dress smoothly, bunching it around her hips. She didn't dare complain though as his fingers probed between her legs and stroked her wetness.

His breathing was harsh in her ear as Linda tapped the last of Thor's armour, leaving only for him to step back and remove the plates himself. "You really want to do this?" he rasped in her ear. "It is not too late to go back to our chambers if you have changed you mind." His lips kissed over one of the many bruise marks he'd left on her neck almost instantly, finger drenching itself in the juices from her core.

Imogen was having none of it; her hand fisted in his hair and she forced him still. "I haven't changed my mind." she hissed in his ear. She was going to make the little whore regret trying to pry Imogen's husband from her.

Then Thor stiffened and stilled and she held her breath. She caught the reason instantly: her eyes glared over Thor's shoulder at the insolent girl behind him - and her hands massaging over his shoulders, where the loose armour freed. Her eyes were dark and sultry, her fingers massaging slow, seductive patterns around where his neck met his shoulder.

Imogen's lips pursued instantly, her eyes narrowing. Thor beat her to it though: "Get your hands off me." he as good as spat, vemon laced in his voice. "Before I have them bound in chains like your sister."

Linda just arched a sassy eyebrow over his shoulder at Imogen. Her hands didn't stop. She leaned in and put her lips by his ear. "I can please you, my Lord." she purred, pressing the front of her barely clad body into his back. Imogen felt his hands tighten on her body, his fingers curling into her core of their own tense accord. She fought to hold down the gasps of pleasure. Linda didn't even look at her. "Would it not be better to have two maidens pleasure you?"

Imogen couldn't deny the way her heart sped up a notch at the idea of another person joining them in the bedroom, an extra pair of hands to touch and pleasure... but _her_? _Now_? She didn't want Linda to pleasure her husband in any way possible. She didn't want her to _touch_ him.

"Get off him." she forced through gritted teeth. Linda's hands froze. It wasn't enough; Imogen's fingers left Thor's hair and shot to Linda's wrist, jerking it away from her husband's skin.

Then Thor's patience snapped.

Imogen gasped as his fingers left her core and hand empty, and in the second it took to blink, he'd turned, armour falling from his body like water, and forced Linda back. Her back hit the wall with a thud. His hands pinned her wrists to the wall either side of her head, a clear gap between their two bodies. Imogen couldn't see, but she guess her husband looked thunderous.

"I could have you thrown in jail for touching me without my permission." he said in a deathly quiet voice. "For disobeying me when I told you to release me."

Imogen held her breath, knowing Linda would be doing the same. How could she not? With that voice threatening her, that powerful grip holding her down and those inevitably blazing eyes bearing into hers like enraged, searing coals...if she had any sense she'd be terrified.

Thor's fingers clenched harder around the servant girl's wrists, his angry face moving closer to hers. "Do you understand the penalty for that?" he hissed.

Chills ran down Imogen's spine at the tone of his voice. Her hand fumbled behind her for the bed and she lowered herself to her knees as they weakened. Her eyes flittered to Shelby on the floor; thankfully, she was still asleep.

Her arms were trembling, a keen mixture of lust and cold fear at her husband's tone shuddering through her system as they held her up. Her core simply drooled for him. She could feel power just oozing from him and she wanted it for hers. It was deja vu; before they had married Imogen had been in the same position as Linda, held up against a wall, caged by Thor. She knew the way the girl's heart raced, the way her lusts roared for him. Thankfully, Thor's hips, and his obvious erection, stayed poised away from the girl's body.

She remembered that day. That was the day she'd defied him, the day her spirit had enraged his passions for the first time when she refused to quit her job.

Only Thor hadn't held back with her. He'd pressed his desire against hers, let her feel how much he wanted her. Gods, it had been hot!

Her knees were braced apart as she knelt on the floor, watching, her core throbbing for her husband. Her hand slipped between her thighs, tentatively touching her wetness. Her heart fluttered; she imagined it was Thor touching her, bringing her this light pleasure. Her fingers pressed harder, parting to either side of her clit.

_Oh. Gods._ Her hips rolled into her hand and her head fell forward, lips parting. Her fingers on the hand holding her body up curled against the floor at the warmth that ran through her.

"She doesn't seem to mind."

Imogen's eyes blinked up at Linda's soft voice and she met Thor's bright blue eyes, glancing over his shoulder at his wife on the floor. And her hand between her thighs. She'd been right; they were blazing.

She glimpsed past his face to Linda's, the girl's eyes glinting with triumph. Especially as Thor's hands loosened around her wrists.

Thor couldn't take his eyes off Imogen, knelt there pleasuring herself. So he didn't notice Linda's hand slip free of his loose grasp, the mischief that flickered in her eyes. Imogen was just rooted to the spot, caught under her husband's gaze.

Her orbs widened though as Linda's hand slipped down to Thor's cheek and guided his face smoothly back to her. Her lips closed in on his before he could realise what was happening.

Imogen swore she stopped breathing.

Her body froze with Thor's as she watched Linda kiss her husband, her lips moving slow and sweet over Thor's. _Oh gods_, she thought breathlessly. What was he going to _do_? He stayed stock still, his mouth staying perfectly unmoving.

Imogen wasn't sure what she felt. There was no rush of anger this time. Just shock. Cold, pure shock. And fear - what if Thor was the one to get angry?

Her hand fell numbly from between her thighs as Linda slipped free of Thor's grasp against the wall, pressing her body flush against Thor's, her arms wrapping securely around his neck. Imogen felt a bit of her heart fall out. A weak whimper left her lips.

She could hear Thor's ragged breath as Linda pulled slowly back, her round sweet eyes staring up at her prince. Imogen couldn't take her eyes off him.

Finally - "Imogen."

His voice was low and serious, Thor not moving at all from Linda, still draped over him. His arms bracing against the wall were tense, the muslces hard and bunched.

"I don't have the patience." he rasped. "I need you now."

His speed was impressive. Imogen didn't even have the time to say anything before Thor's arms dropped from around Linda, leaving her alone against the wall. In the space of a heartbeat, he turned, crossed the room and lifted Imogen up from the floor, tossing her back on the bed.

The breath was knocked out of her as she landed in a dazed heap. Not that she minded as Thor crawled up over her, parting her legs as he went.

His hands secured at her hips, her skirt still bunched there - and he wasted no time, pressing his lips to her sex. Imogen's head threw back from watching him, her mouth falling open in a silent, breathless gasp. Her body writhed instantly under his as his tongue stroked her clit, as his mouth closed over the little bundle of nerves and sucked, as he devoured her core like he was dying of thirst and she was all that could quench him...

Her hand fisted in his hair, hips gyrating against his face as his tongue lashed pleasure onto her.

All thoughts of the insolent whelp by the wall were driven from her mind as Thor treasured her, drawing incoherent whimpers and gasps from her. Her thighs were already quivering, core shuddering with a release that was just seconds away.

She moaned hard. "_No." _She didn't want to end just yet. She wanted him inside her.

His tongue stroked through her wetness, wiping away her choice. His hot mouth closed over her clit and sucked - "_Oh..." _her eyes fluttered shut dreamily, head falling back numbly against the mattress below. Her core throbbed with her release, hot and drooling with her juices.

Thor's lips nuzzled her nether ones, kissing her essence. "I'll never get tired of this." he breathed on her wet skin as Imogen got her breath and senses back. "I'll never get tired of you."

Imogen didn't have the senses to respond, her mind just swimming through the lingering bliss of her fading orgasm. Her fingers unclenched from his hair, combing through the soft blonde locks. She stayed still as her husband planted a soft kiss over her sex, then moved up, trailing his lips over her hip bones, up her stomach, peeling her dress up with him as he went.

Feeling started to come back to Imogen and she squirmed beneath him, her hands moving down from her husband's hair to his body. Strength returning to her fingers, she peeled up the hem of his shirt, roaming her hands over his flawless muscular torso.

She drew in a sighing breath as his hands gently peeled her dress over her breasts, his mouth soon following. She groaned quietly as his lips kissed over her the creamy skin of her breast, his tongue teasing her alert nipple.

Her eyes snapped open, alive. No, she breathed in her head. She was done letting him tease her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, slowly at first.

He was totally unprepared as he kissed her breast; Imogen gripped him with her thighs and rolled them over fast, so she was on top. She straddled his hips, and grinned, revelling in Thor's astonished eyes and his gasp. He hadn't seen that coming. She reached up herself and peeled the last of her dress over her head. Her dark hair flowed over her shoulders as her hips squirmed over her husband's bulging erection beneath her.

His hand moved to grasp her hip, to pull her closer to him... Imogen brushed him off. She flashed her feral smile up at him as she leaned forward, flattening her palms on Thor's stomach, exposed from his lifted shirt.

Oh, turnabout was so fair! Her fingers played down his strong abdominal muscles, trailing south to his trousers. She traced the line of muscle where his body moulded into his thigh. Her fingers hooked into the waist band of his trousers and she shuffled back onto his legs as she wiggled them down his hips.

Her hips rubbed down on his leg as his manhood was revealed to her, trying to relieve the ache she felt inside. Her smile widened as she unveiled him.

She glanced over her shoulder, resting her hands either side of his impressive erection. Linda looked miserably glum in the corner. Imogen just grinned. "Come take his trousers off for me." she ordered, roaring with triumph inside as Linda reluctantly dragged herself forward. Her eyes darkened warningly at the servant though. "But touch his skin," she warned. "And you'll be in trouble."

She was sure she didn't imagine the bob of Linda's head as she turned back to her husband beneath her. She grinned triumphantly; her hand grasped him at his base, squeezing him happily.

She heard the clunk as Linda pulled off Thor's boots and ditched them on the floor. The material of Thor's trousers tugged beneath her. Imogen lifted her hips up from her husband's thighs, gripping his manhood firmer to entice him as she did. Linda gave a tug and his trousers slid from beneath Imogen.

He sat up fervently, the breath catching in his throat as he tore his shirt over his head, leaving him just as naked as his wife. The girl behind her really was the last thing on his mind.

He wanted to touch Imogen, to hold her hips, to run his fingers through her hair ...her fingers clenched around his base and his hips lifted into her hand, ripping a breathless gasp from him. "_Gods.." _he rasped, head tilting back into the mattress. "_Imogen_."

He couldn't see her, as his eyes bluttered shut in bliss... so he didn't see Imogen lean forward. He only felt her as she smothered his head with her lips, sucking hard. His eyes shot open, head lifting to watch her. Her violet orbs sparkled up at his. His gaze was as hot as a live wire as he watched her take more of him into her mouth, her tongue dancing on his tip as she did.

His loins felt on fire as she bobbed her mouth over the top half of his length, her hand skillfully twisting around the lower. Her lips pressed a firm pressure around him, her fingers gripping him... he was straining for her already,

His hands fisted at his sides but there were no sheets to grasp, nothing for him to hold on to. He didn't dare reach for Imogen's hair for fear of tearing it out of the roots. He was helpless beneath her torture.

His hips lifted off the bed, thrusting gently into her waiting mouth above. He couldn't help himself. She was shredding him of his control.

Her talented tongue found the crease in his tip, and he felt his muscles twitch with the instinct to turn them over and claim her, to drive his length into her lush body. But no. He couldn't. A hard, strangled groan was torn from him as her tongue lapped up the moisture that leaked from him.

Heat pooled readily in his gut and he was appalled at himself. What? So soon? She tested him this quickly? Gods, his wife...

"_Imogen_." he rasped desperately. He wanted to be inside her. He didn't want to come like this. "_Please... I..."_

Words failed him as Imogen's hand gripped firmer. She had to know what he meant. She had to... the god sighed, whether with loss or relief, he wasn't sure, as she straightened up from him, pulling her mouth away. Her other hand instantly took its place.

Thor continued to thrust into her grasp as Imogen threw her head over her shoulder again, eyes scouring for the servant girl. She hadn't moved. Well...

Imogen's eyes glinted wickedly as she caught Linda's hand at the apex of her thighs, pressed together tightly. A guilt flush ran across her face.

Imogen's core clenched excitedly. "Do that to me." she ordered a little breathlessly. Thor was close, and she didn't want him coming outside of her either. But she had to be ready for him too. She didn't want Linda pleasing Thor in any way. But her...

She knew the girl would obey as she turned back to her husband, feeling her crawl slowly onto the bed behind her. Cool hands placed themselves on Imogen's hips, as her fingers worked her husband. She held her breath as Linda ran her palms over Imogen's hips, moving forward. Her fingers slipped below her hipbones to the wet skin of her arousal.

Her teeth ground into her lip as pleasure rippled through her as Linda brushed her clit. Her fingers trembled around Thor's manhood. She didn't want to moan. Not even as her hips started to rock against Linda's hand. She was good at her job, Imogen had to give her that.

She bowed low and took Thor into her mouth again, sucking, using him to settle her inner growl of lust. But then Linda's spare hand moved round the back of Imogen's hips, finding her core from behind; her two middle fingers pressed into her seeping slit. Imogen couldn't hold back this time - she groaned hard, mercifully muffled by Thor's length.

The god cried out under the vibrations, sounding almost pained. His hips thrust a little more urgently into her mouth. Imogen could feel her heart flutter manically as Linda's fingers pumped and worked inside her. Not at filling as when Thor did it, but talented none the less. And when she teased Imogen's clit too at the same time ...her hips ground insistantly for attention.

The quivering blushed over her thighs, trembling deep inside her as she felt her orgasm building. That was it - she was ready for Thor now.

She didn't even say anything to Linda - she just straightened up from Thor's cock and shifted forward as gracefully and fast as he could. Thor got the hint and sat up, arms wrapping warmly around her as she straddled his straining erection. His hand found her hip and he thrust up into her waiting body.

Her hips ground urgently into his, as his parted mouth breathed over her fluttered closed eyelids. He filled her so well, so deep. It was all ragged, wordless gasps as they thrust against each other, a sheen of sweat glistening off their bodies. They were both so close. It wouldn't take long.

Imogen's hips had a mind of their own as they raced to finish the shuddering of her thighs, the spasming inside her. She could feel it getting stronger, faster, Thor's hard, desperate thrusts driving to new heights.

Her hands found either side of his face and held him still in front of her. "Together." she sighed, feeling Thor's hands on her hips twitch.

He leaned forward, claiming her lips in a bruising kiss. "Together." he murmured breathlessly.

With that, his hips powered up into her, hands slamming her down onto him. He couldn't take it anymore; and the way Imogen's forehead touched his, her eyes closing and lips parting open, she couldn't either.

"_Ah!"_

Her innermost muscles spasmed around him, clenching hard as release shuddered through his wife and she saw stars - and he came too.

He pulled her spasming body down on him and held it there as his seed drooled up into Imogen's body, emptying himself in her. Warmth flooded through him with his release, hugging his wife close and she trembled through hers.

A broken sigh fled between his lips and he eased forward, grazing his mouth over hers. With that, his arms closed around her again and they fell back onto the mattress, totally exhausted.

He was still inside her when they fell almost instantly into a blissful, deep sleep.

Elga's release

Thor's coronation


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Imogen sat at her dresser, staring at her reflection in the mirror. She didn't know what she was looking for. A queen, maybe?

She just saw herself.

Not a queen.

Her eyes looked wide and slightly crazy as she stared, feeling the anxiety rise in her chest. There was no way she was going to be a queen in half a moon's time. Look at her! She was no way queen-material! Her violet orbs gleamed with a calm sort of panic, her mind racing behind them.

What was she going to do...

"I'm certain she just smiled at me." Thor chuckled behind her, wondering in from the nursery. Imogen watched him through the mirror, beaming down at the baby cradled in his arms.

She didn't even know what to say, her mind running blank. Well, not blank. All she could think about was how she was too erratic to be a queen. Not about small talk though. She wanted to be happy her baby was smiling, to be excited and fawn over the event... but she couldn't. Not while this was looming over her.

A large hand settled on her shoulder, and she jumped, but relaxed when she saw Thor's bright blue eyes staring back at her through the mirror's reflection, calm and serene.

A small smile graced his lips, knowing. Reassuring. "It will be fine." he breathed softly. "Once I am king, I can make it so they never hurt us again."

They... the court. The 'new mistress' thing had shaken them a little. Well, shaken ... in the form of enraged. Thor was furious about it, though no one would know from the way he stared at her softly now, nor would anyone know of Imogen's anger by the dull gaze she sent back at him. But they were. The mere idea...

It was nothing short of insulting. The court had as good as openly declared that she was not good enough and Linda had been a replacement. It hadn't been accepted, but still, the message was clear.

And it was starting to get to Imogen, especially as the day of the coronation drew nearer.

It wasn't in her nature to doubt but.. what if they were right?

She was hardly the typical ideal of a Queen. She was too spirited, too brash, too forward. Thor was still in awe of the way she'd stormed to Linda's chambers and had had audienced sex with him! And it had worked; Linda had been moved out of her room and sent back to her parents the next day.

But would a Queen do that? A calm, caring, soothing Queen... Imogen wasn't sure. There was more than Thor's opinion that mattered now.

She didn't move as Thor leaned down and pressed his mouth into the crowd of her head, his orbs glittering like jewels at her in the mirror. "I'll rewrite the laws," he breathed, promising. "Find advisors I actually trust ...I'll fix this. We don't have long to wait."

It made Imogen's heart grip all over again with fear. She as Queen, in but a few short weeks...

She remembered when she'd first been pregnant with Shelby and the way she'd feared for her reputation, for how it would affect Thor - and that was just as a lowly servant! As Queen of Asgard, her reputation would be so much more important. Every move would be scrutinized. What if she wasn't careful enough?

It wasn't just her parents who would disapprove anymore - it was a whole kingdom of people, judging her. Normally, she would say she wouldn't care about what people thought about her, but...

But what people thought about her affected how they thought about Thor, and that mattered. A great deal.

While Imogen grew more anxious, Thor was settling down about the coming coronation; he wasn't scared anymore. Now he couldn't wait to take the throne. Now that he knew what was wrong, and what he wanted to do to fix it. He couldn't wait to have the power to do so, so those pompous fools could never hurt his wife again. He'd make them so redundant they'd be like nothing more than furniture.

He'd felt what it was like to be helpless to their influence, watching the way it affected his wife and child, his marriage... no, there was no fear that was strong enough for him to just accept for that to happen. He wouldn't allow it.

The court were wise to be keeping their distance since the Linda incident; the god was furious. They'd overstepped their bounds, used powers that were not theirs against him, the prince. How dare they! The court may have the power the recommend and advise... but they'd as good as blackmailed him by proceeding so without his consent. He wanted to have them all chained up for unlawful influence, but that would only make him look tyrannous.

Until he was king and could have their powers delegated, there was nothing he could do but sit back and shield his wife and child the best he could.

And looking at his wife's glum face reflected at him in the mirror, he wasn't doing a very good job.

Sighing, he knelt down beside her and rested his head against her arm, breathing in the scent of her skin. She stared down at him blankly. It tugged at his heart painfully; his wife was normally so fearless, and now she was just...hardened. Thor knew her well enough though. She was hardening to protect herself.

He nudged the baby up in his arms. "See this." he breathed, peeling Shelby gently away from his chest. Imogen's eyes fell instantly to their baby. Her lips flickered in a smile. Thor's bright eyes drank in that little spark of happiness eagerly, heart aching with love as Imogen reached out a finger to dangle in front of their child. "This is all that matters." he insisted, easing Shelby up into her mother's arms. He watched the expression on Imogen's face just glow lovingly. "Titles and courts come and go, but _this_..." His finger found Shelby's tiny hand and the baby clung to it. "She is ours forever."

A chuckle flowed beautifully from Imogen's lips, staring down at the child as if she were the only thing in the universe. Imogen was a fierce woman - fierce in love too, for her child. Thor smiled.

"You are right." his wife finally murmured, readjusting their baby slightly in her arms. Thor held his breath. "I think she is smiling at you."

Thor laughed before he could help it, but didn't regret a moment of it as it sent Imogen into giggles too. He stood swiftly and pressed his lips to her cheek, holding her near. "We have every reason in the world to be happy." he sighed, smiling.

Imogen's hand reached up and gripped his on her shoulder. Her eyes were like jewels as they glittered up at him through the mirror, so soft and gentle they weren't like Imogen's orb at all. But they were hers, and they were beautiful. His wife could be aggressive and fiery...but it was when those fires sank into a simmering glow that Thor found his wife simply irresistible.

"What did I do to deserve someone as good as you." she squeezed his fingers, reflecting the clench of her heart.

Thor just grinned. "Seduced your prince, if I recall correctly."

He chuckled as Imogen's hand swatted his playfully on her shoulder, and earned a giggle from her as he wrapped his arms round her, nuzzling his mouth into her neck. He didn't want her to feel anything other than the princess she was.

Imogen's blissful sigh was music to his ears: "If I can give you a son," she breathed. "Then maybe things will get better."

If Thor had an heir or two then the court could have no more reason to complain about her. Whatever her background, she'd have protected the royal bloodline. It didn't matter what Thor did with her then as long as she gave him a son. And so far, Shelby was just the court's way of proving she was an inadequate wife. Once she'd given him a son, then the court would probably bear her no more grudge than if she were just his mistress again, provided she keep her head down.

Her lips curved at the thought. She missed those carefree days of being Thor's mistress, free for them to do whatever they wanted with no court or interfering nobles to get in the way.

She didn't miss the way Thor's arms stiffened around her, though his nose nuzzled at her neck softly. "It will happen." He murmured, pressing a kiss to where her neck met her shoulder. "In time."

XXX

"She's a bonny little girl." Imogen's mother crooned lovingly, pushing the sewing needle through the mesh. Her bright, sparkling eyes roamed over her work to the little baby between her and Imogen, laid out happily on the floor, rattling a belled toy happily.

Imogen's finger paused, eyes lifting. They were hard and heavy. She set her work down on her lap as she stared down at her child, thinking.

She was ashamed at herself for what she thought though – _why couldn't you be a boy?_

A boy would have made things so much easier. She loved her daughter like no other, but… the little girl's eyes rolled back, trying to look behind her, smile already on her pretty little face. She gurgled happily, little fist shaking the rattle.

Imogen couldn't help beaming too as the little girl's big, beautiful blue eyes met her mother's. Gods, she really was a beautiful little baby. Such a beautiful little face, fine, pretty blonde hairs growing on her head, her small, chubby body dressed in the white lace outfit Thor's mother had made for her… she was like a little angel.

But she couldn't take the throne.

Imogen needed to give her husband a son…

"Are you nervous about the coronation?"

Imogen snapped her eyes up and caught her mother's twinkling ones, staring at her over the baby. Her mouth shot open to deny it – but caught herself just in time.

Her brow furrowed. Nervous… yes, she was. In three days she'd be crowned Queen of Asgard alongside Thor, to be King…she was very nervous, especially with her 'failed' reputation in court. She let her eyes drop down to the abandoned thread and needle in her lap. "Maybe." She murmured.

A light, feminine chuckle was all that answered her. "You will be a wonderful queen." Her mother reassured warmly. "You are a wonderful woman, a wonderful wife, a wonderful mother… you will be a_ glorious_ queen."

Imogen's lips quirked in a feeble smile. She didn't say anything though.

Thor was busy for today. Busy tending to coronation details with his father. Imogen had come to her parents instead, needing the comfort only a mother could give.

She hated sewing, but she'd agreed to it nevertheless. Maybe if she had some womanly craft to take back with her it might gain her some favour back at the palace. She was desperate. She didn't want to ruin Thor's chances of being a good King, just because the second most powerful people in the kingdom didn't like his wife.

Normally, she was adamant – she was her own woman, she didn't need to change for anyone. Thor had told her the same, that he loved her just the way she was.

But she loved him too and that was why she uncharacteristically cared about what the court thought of her. If it was just her on the line, she didn't care. She'd know the truth about herself and that would be enough. But if it damaged Thor… she couldn't take him down with her.

Her eyes dropped down into her lap, unable to hold her mother's kindly eye anymore. "Mother…" her voice was wary but she couldn't help it. "Did you and Father ever want a son?"

She had to know. A son would have been better than a daughter. He could have learned the trade, brought in more money than a daughter… sure, she guessed she'd brought in a hefty bridal price Thor was so desperate to marry her but still... surely a son would have been better. Made life easier.

She didn't need to look up to see her mother put her sewing aside, hearing her heavy sigh. "You know I was left barren after I had you, Imogen." She said quietly. "I couldn't have any more children."

Imogen hunched her shoulders, her needle picking at the mesh on her sewing. She picked mindlessly, trying to focus on that. She kept her eyes fused on her lap, refusing to lift them. "I know." She murmured. "Didn't father want a son though? Things would have been better if you'd had a son."

Her hands were almost shaking as she waited for her mother's answer. She just had to know. There was no one's opinions she trusted more than her mother's.

"I thought that once." Volva finally admitted. "I asked him about it once. I thought that I was failing him as a wife by not being able to give him a son." _The same as I feel_, Imogen breathed in her head. She tensed though as she felt her mother's needles click, setting them down firmly beside her. A small chuckle oozed from her Volva: "But do know what he said?"

Imogen stiffened even more, cursing in her head as her mother moved forward, crawling ahead, leaning over Shelby. She was helpless to resist as her mother hooked a gentle finger under Imogen's chin, guiding her eyes up. They were glistening with tears as they met Volva's kindly, comforting orbs.

The backs of Volva's fingers brushed over Imogen's cheek softly, her soft smile scouring over her treasured daughter's face. "He said it didn't matter if the child was a girl or a boy or pink with green polka dots, as long as it was ours. And he was so right, my darling." Her palm flattened lovingly over Imogen's cheek. "You are everything we ever wanted."

Imogen tried. She really tried. She clamped her jaw down hard, her eyes blinking furiously… but the first tear rolled over her cheek regardless.

"And I'm sure Thor would say the same."

_Yes,_ Imogen answered in her head, bowing her head down to her lap again, breaking free of her mother's hand. He would say exactly that. He wouldn't care about what child they had; he just wanted a family with her.

And that's why she had to take the responsibility for this. Why _she_ had to understand why it was so important.

For a few moments, she just sat there, her mind racing. Thor wouldn't hear of it. He would say a son would come in time and that there was no worry, that he just wanted her to be happy. Only she wasn't happy. She could be the ruin of Thor if she was hated across the court and kingdom. If she gave him a son though, all that would change. They may not like her, but disrupting their marriage wouldn't be a target anymore. When Thor was king, his marriage would need to be his sanctuary. It was Imogen's job as a wife to secure that in any way she could.

She could feel more tears stinging at her eyes and clamped her jaw down hard, gulping down any more sobs. She wouldn't cry in front of her mother. Not anymore. It wasn't her burden to bear.

Her heart thumped hard in her chest, feeling her panic rising. She'd come here seeking help...but nothing had changed. She still felt like a failure.

She sucked in a deep breath.

Blinking her eyes clear, she slowly lifted her head, meeting her mother's heartbreaking gaze once more. It was all Imogen could do to keep her eyes blank, hiding the thoughts that raced through her head. She didn't want her mother to be troubled because of her problems.

It felt like her face cracked as she forced her lips into a stiff smile; it was the best she could do. Her shaky fingers closed around the sewing in her lap and put it on the ground beside her.

Her heart beat numbly in her chest. "I think I need some air."

Even her voice sounded lifeless, she thought as she slowly rose to her feet, smiling all the time. She had to at least pretend she was alright, for her mother's sake.

She didn't dare look at Shelby though as she turned away, fixing her eyes instantly on the door; she didn't want to think of the horrible things that might go through her mind at the sight of her daughter. Daughter - not son. She didn't want to think those things about her and Thor's precious little girl. It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair to fall apart in front of her mother either. The woman was recovering from a serious illness for goodness sake - how could Imogen dump all her worries on her mother's shoulders to bear too?!

No, she thought, eyes locked on the door. Past the door, she could fall apart. Past the door, no one would care. She just had to get there.

She could feel her hands trembling as they reached for the cottage door, taking in a shaky breath. Maybe her control wasn't so great after all. She was slipping. _Past the door_, she told herself, _past the door..._

She screwed her eyes shut as her hand closed around the door handle, feeling her mother's sorrowful eyes on her back. _I'm sorry_, she sent in her head to her mother. _I'm so sorry._ She hadn't meant for this to happen. She guessed she'd been naive in thinking everything would be okay if she just married Thor. That 'love could conquer anything' like in the fairytales. But Thor couldn't protect her from everything. Real life didn't work like that.

The door felt heavier than it had this morning when she'd come in, and she didn't have the will to do more than crack it open. She slipped outside and leaned back, closing it.

Then the strength failed her; her hand flew to her mouth as the first sob broke free and she screwed her eyes shut against the threatening tears. No, she scolded herself, spare hand clawing at the door as her knees felt weak, holding her upright. She hated herself as she fell apart.

She was supposed to be strong. Crying wouldn't solve this - she had to do something, somehow! Standing there crying wouldn't get her a son.

She clamped her throat shut and forced herself to step forward slowly. Then another step. People stared at her but she didn't care, lowering her shaky hand to her side and blinking furiously to clear her eyes. Strong, she told herself. Thor had no need for a weeping woman for a wife.

He needed someone who could give him sons.

The more steps she took, the more strength returned to her. She kept her eyes ahead, focused and firm. Proud.

Think, she willed herself. She had to decide what to do. Resign herself over to her daughter and adopt Thor's carefree 'it will happen in time' thesis, live with torment from the court and pray that no disaster would happen, was one option. If something did happen, Thor would be in no position as a new king, heirless, commoner for a wife, to have much support.

Or she could try for a new baby. Pray for a son, no matter what Thor or her mother said. She could earn them security. There would be no disapproval or resentment. The court would only be interested in Thor after that, wouldn't judge him based on his family life. He'd have support.

The answer was clear in her head: despite what her mother said, what Thor said, Imogen needed another baby.

A son.

How though? She couldn't make herself pregnant, let alone secure a son with certainty. That was...something thatjust happened. A blessing.

She didn't have time to wait for a blessing though. The coronation was in days. Thor would have an uncertain first year as it was as king, that much was certain now. But the least she could do was give him a son as soon as possible, and pray she wasn't too late. Disaster wouldn't wait for her. She had no time to lose.

Her knees felt numb again as she walked, her mind focused on nothing but the situation she had to resolve. The noise and bustle of the streets faded to background noise to her.

She didn't even know where she was walking. She just walked, carving a path to gods only knew where. The crowds thickened the further she went, but her eyes were too glazed in thought to care about what was going on. Maybe this was normal for the streets; she didn't spend enough time down here to know.

She had to bed Thor. That much was certain. Bed him as much and often as she could and prayed she fell pregnant before too long.

A son.. what would they name him? Something strong, something brave. He would be everything to them, the most famous child in Asgard if Imogen could only concieve.

Suddenly, she stopped stark in her tracks. Someone bumped into her back at her sudden halt but hurried on with mumbled apologies. Imogen barely noticed them, her eyes staring ahead wide with horror. Her thoughts flew back to her mother's words: 'I was left barren after I had you.'. Gods... what if Imogen was the same? What if Volva had passed on her curse to her daughter?

The breath hitched in Imogen's throat. She might as well throw herself from the palace roof now if that was the case and save Thor and the court the trouble! What if she was barren? She'd never bear another child at all, let alone a son!

She could feel the blood drain from her face and knew that she was going to faint. The weakness in her knees and the dizziness in her head...she was going to pass out.

Her foot staggered backwards as the world started to sway.

Then a strong, vice like hand gripped her arm and tugged her forward. It jerked Imogen back slightly and her swimming eyes fell on a woman in front of her, with a pair of huge amber eyes.

Short and ragged, Imogen knew this woman: the medicine woman. A shawl covered her head, thin strands of wiry grey hair running messily either side of her face. She was old and hunched, but the light in her eyes was of that of a much younger woman. This was the woman Imogen had bought her mother's medicine from. She was famed. And expensive.

Imogen's first thought was that she recognised her. There was something about the gleam in the woman's eyes that told Imogen the woman knew who she was, that she was Thor's wife and not some random woman. Imogen didn't dress like a queen. So many people just passed her in the street unless she was with Thor. That would all change with a son. They would all love her instead of have no opinion.

But this woman _knew_.

For such a small, thin hand the woman had a strong grip, but Imogen was glad, feeling the pressure anchor her to reality a little more.

"Would you like to come in for a drink?" the woman asked, voice stronger than her appearance. They didn't seem to match, such a strong voice against such a frail appearance. "Some water? You look pale."

In any case, Imogen was hardly in much position to question her. Whatever this woman wanted, Imogen knew that if she refused she'd pass out before she'd reached the end of the street. Maybe it was worry, or the hot sun above her...her head span again as she thought back to the possibility that she was barren.

Her throat ran dry again. _No!_ All she could do was nod, and let the woman guide her forward. Imogen couldn't see. Vaguely she noticed the doorframe pass either side of her as she stepped into a building, but all she could think of was... gods, no the thought was too awful...

She slumped lifelessly into the chair the woman brought her to and let the cup of water be forced into her hand. She didn't even have the will to bring it to her mouth.

She sat heavily back in the chair, feeling lifeless. Gods, all this panic, this pressure... _but after a son it'll all be better, _she promised herself. After a son, she'll have done all she could and would never have to worry again. A son would save her. Save them all.

"You must drink."

Imogen blinked as the woman's hand closed around hers on the glass and eased it up, towards her mouth. She let her, only parting her lips as the glass reached her mouth. The water was cool and crisp, surprising for such a hot day. It was refreshing; she felt her head clear almost instantly after the first sip. It was magical.

The woman pulled the glass away after a few gulps, but a few was enough. Imogen's eyes blinked, innocently impressed as the woman took the glass from her hand, replacing it on the counter.

Blinking, Imogen started to notice the shop around her. There was a counter in front of her, with bottles and vials stacked neatly either side. Imogen was pretty sure that there were cabinets inside the counter, holding more of the same potions that lined the shelves around her. This wasn't the same shop that she'd been in when Volva had been ill.

It didn't weigh on her mind that much. Maybe Thor had given her money in thanks for Volva's healing that she didn't know about. It sounded like the sort of thing he would do.

The woman caught her attention again as she settled behind the counter, leaning her elbows on the wood. Her massive amber eyes were impossible to ignore.

"I know what troubles you."

Imogen snapped to high alert instantly. Her eyes flew to the woman's round, almost scary ones. The breath froze in her lungs; "I don't know what you mean." she breathed after a beat.

She had to lie. It was one thing confiding in her mother, but to a regular citizen, someone she didn't know...she couldn't share her personal business. Thor was going to be crowned in days; she couldn't let on to the kingdom that there was a clink in the chain, a weakness in their future monarchs.

Her eyes narrowed warningly and she tried to focus her mind, to be more alert. The water had done well. She sat up proudly and honed her mind. Only the more she tried to concentrate the more her mind started to wonder. Her brow furrowed.

A knowing look settled in the woman's orbs. Knowing, smug. Imogen's heart sank: she knew.

Her frown deepened. "How can you know?"

That was bad. If she knew...who else did? Imogen glanced down instinctively - was there something about her body that betrayed it? Was that possible? She couldn't afford for anyone else to know.

Her mind was swamped as the woman wondered back around the counter with surprising speed for such a small, aged woman, and closed the door to her shop, pulling the lock in place. Imogen tried not to panic at that, tried not to let her instincts panic. Her skin crawled though. It was like the air had changed into something more...sinister.

Well, it was no light matter on her mind. This was vital. And if the woman knew... "How can you know?" Imogen asked again, eyes following the woman carefully as she lingered by the door, peeking through a crack in the wood.

The woman's face sharpened, her kindly eyes narrowing as she stared through her door warily. "It is not something widely discussed." she half whispered. "Many women flock here, with the same problems as you, but do not have the courage to take what would cure them."

Imogen's heart instinctively soared. Cure? She'd heard that word leave the woman's lips. There was a cure. Whether she was barren or not, there was help for her!

Her lips parted... but she held her tongue. Many do not have the courage... what was it that cured them then? What could be so .. feared? Was that right? If there was a cure, Imogen couldn't imagine much that would stop her having it. Thor's knowledge would be one of them. She wouldn't want him to know her desperation, to know her natural failure. This would be something she kept strictly to herself from here-on out.

The 'cure' sounded ominous..._but how bad could it really be?, _Imogen reasoned in her head. Something a little gruesome maybe. That would turn away a lot of woman. Imogen didn't have the time for pettiness though. She had to do her duty to her husband, however she could.

"What is it?" she finally asked, warily. Her brow dipped with suspicion. "The cure. What is it?"

No matter how vile tasting or hard to swallow, Imogen would take it. She didn't have time to be patient. She needed her womb open, to bear Thor sons. She needed it now.

The woman's eyes had darkened a shade by the time she slowly turned them to Imogen. "How desperate are you?" she hissed.

Imogen just held her breath, meeting the woman's eyes squarely. Firmly. Not backing down. "Desperate enough." she insisted.

The moment the words left her lips her heart raced. What had she just consented to? She wondered as the woman walked back from the door, back around the counter. What was so ominous that she had to lock the door? Pure privacy? If the public caught word of this...

No, it seemed more than courtesy. The dark look in her eye... it made Imogen's skin tingle. Maybe whatever it was wasn't entirely legal, she started to wonder.

"You want a son." the woman said aloud, pulling a bowl of leaves from beneath the counter and a phial of clear liquid. Strangely clear. Unnaturally clear. Her eyes avoided Imogen's, absorbed in her task as she wondered to the shelves against the wall, opening the door, and picking out certain pots and potions. "All the women want sons. Not daughters. Some of them so very, very desperate to bear sons for their husbands."

The phials clinked against the little glass pot, as delicate and innocent sounding as anything. Imogen jumped when the woman abruptly slammed the cupboard door shut again, the bang making her straighten up in her chair instantly.

The woman was lost in her mumbling as she set all her gatherings on the counter, ignoring Imogen as if she was not there.

"But you are not just any ordinary woman." she rambled on as she popped the stopper of a phial and poured a few drops into the bowl of leaves. "Your son will go on to rule the realms, a great king as his father."

Imogen said nothing, unsure of whateven to say. Yes, her son would be king some day, would inherit worlds to rule. "Thor's not king yet." she mumbled quietly.

She wasn't sure if the woman just had a few screws loose... but the wild, but controlled look in her eyes...Imogen gulped. She didn't want to say what it reminded her of. It made her skin crawl. The woman didn't seem crazy. The way she said it... almost prophetic.

She watched the leaves get ground together in the bowl, drops of the various bottles dipped in to form a sticky, red paste. Imogen tried not to grimace - would she have to take that?

Her eyes widened though as the woman hovered her hand over the open bottle of blue powder and closed her eyes, muttering under her breath. Imogen couldn't ignore the chill that raced up her spine. It was like the temperature had dropped a few degrees as the fine powder inside the bottle darkened under the woman's words. In the blink of an eye, she was silent again, pouring the changed powder into the bowls mixture.

Imogen couldn't cast it aside so quickly: "Magic?" she gasped, horror seeping through her. "You're using _magic_ for this?!" A witch.. the woman was a witch. If she was caught using magic...

Magic and medicine was strictly forbidden. Loki's harmless tricks and battle strategy was one thing, but this... this was like black magic. Like summoning demons and other darkness. If Imogen was caught with this, let alone the woman...

A part of her wanted to up and leave the store there and then, to just pretend this trip hadn't happened. But she couldn't. It was like she was rooted to her seat.

The woman's hands paused, her dark eyes lifting to Imogen's. Her amber orbs held Imogen's effortlessly. "Crafting children is not natural." the woman said somberly, her voice ominously quiet. "No natural cure can bring you your son. This is the only thing that can help you."

Imogen gulped. Gods...she needed this son. But with the help of magic? It was steeped in as much trickery as those who weilded it. _Never trust a witch, _she'd been taught. Maybe that was how she'd known Imogen's problem before she'd even spoke. Some sort of spirit? Something else...

It was wrong. Just too dangerous. How would Thor react? He would freak, and rightly so. This wasn't just dangerous, it was illegal. There was a reason this was banned.

Imogen got up, breaking eye contact with the woman and walked briskly round her seat to the door. She had to go, she decided. She couldn't go through with this. No. It was too risky. She'd have to just pray she fell pregnant of her own fertility, and pray even harder that it was a boy.

Her hand paused on the door though-

"Your husband will face trials."

Imogen froze, hand stilled on the door. What? Her blood froze at the woman's words. Trials... Thor...

"I have seen it." the woman went on behind her. "Dark times lay ahead for you all. So dark, not even your love for the prince and his for you will matter. Powers will rage, and you will be nothing more than a speck in the storm, at the mercy of the thunder god with your daughter at your side."

Imogen breathed a ragged breath - exactly what she'd been afraid of. More than anything, it wasn't the court that she feared the most or losing their titles - it was losing Thor's love.

Thor loved her... but would he still ten years down the line, when she had failed to give him a son and lost the crown for his descendents? It would be easy for the court to uproot her and replace her if Thor thought she failed as a wife. Who was she anyway? Just a servant girl. He had no reason to stay married to her if she couldn't give him what he needed.

Swallowing hard, she glanced over her shoulder and found the woman staring at her hard, a bundle in her hand. Imogen blinked; she'd already bound the concuction up in that short space of time? It was just a small ball of cloth, the fateful powder inside. Her son.

She didn't want to hurt Thor, but more than anything, she didn't want to lose him. A son... he would love her forever if she gave him a son.

Her hand loosened on the handle.

Her eyes locked sadly on the little bundle, tied so innocently with string at the top. She didn't want to... but for Thor, she'd do anything. She'd rather meddle with a short spell of magic than forever lose Thor. Reluctantly. But she would.

Her eyes lifted to the woman's. "What must I do?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

_"Take this with water every night. Even after you fall with child take it still. Place this stone under your husband's pillow. Do this, and I guarentee you, you will have a son."_

The words echoed in Imogen's head and she prayed they were true. Staring at herself in the mirror, seeing the beautiful woman in the reflection...she looked like a queen. She did.

Except the figetty hand, tapping at her thighs, the wide, frightened eyes...

She couldn't help it. Ever since that day in the medicine shop, she'd been on edge, as if someone knew, as if someone was going to catch her out, going to accuse her. No one knew. No one could. She kept it hidden. Locked in her draw. Not even Thor knew it existed. No one saw her leave the shop with anything. She'd carefully restyled her hair in a bun, tying it around the small package of medicine to conceal it. No one could know. The fact she was sonless alone was bad enough, but if people knew she was seeking help for the problem...

It would ruin Thor. True or not, rumours would spread of Thor and his infertile wife. And that would be devastating to him. The court would have a parade!

She tried to force it out of her mind. She'd tried. She'd taken the medicine and hidden the stone under Thor's pillow, bedded her husband as many times as she could before she feared her true anxieties would show through, her obsession unconcealable. For now though, Thor seemed to believe her lusts were a consequence of happiness, that they were finally taking the crown at last. She'd rather him think that. That was better.

Her hand smoothed over her stomach over her dress, as if she could sense if she'd conceived yet. As if she could feel if she had a baby prince growing inside her.

It's only been two days, she scolded herself in her head. She had to be patient. Even if she had conceived, she wouldn't be sure for weeks yet. She had to wait.

Waiting had never been her strong suit though.

She forced her breath out between her teeth and tried to stay calm. She would have her son, she told herself. In a month, she would know she was pregnant and her hopes would be restored. She closed her eyes and tried to breath calmly. It would happen. She had faith. As risky as magic was, it rarely failed. It was powerful.

She imagined Thor with another baby in his arms, smiling down at his son...the smile curved her lips. Yes, that was what she wanted.

Her eyes blinked open and she saw her reflection again. With her smile, her bright, happy eyes...it completed the image. She was a queen.

Her hair was twisted up beautifully, pearls and jewels drapes over her locks. The shimmering stones shone out from her dark curls. She looked beautiful, her skin clear and smooth, her smile happy, and her eyes bright, like violet jewels.

She'd lost weight in the last few days. Enough to make the skin of her stomach tone up nicely. She was almost her old figure, lithe and slim. Slim enough to feel happy in the dress Thor had had made for her. She couldn't believe his nerve...it was beautiful. A rich gold colour, it clung to her figure closely. The gold material hung over one shoulder, and billowed beautifully behind her, attached to a ring on her wrist. The skirt fell to her ankles, split at her right hip, revealing her whole right leg covered in a see-through underskirt, with intricate gold patterns on it. It showed off her skin, ephasised the glow to her complexion, leaving all of her recently trim figure up for scrutiny.

It was bold, but beautiful. At first Imogen had been nervous, knowing Thor chose the design. She'd though modest was the style to go for, but looking at her reflection now...she looked like a goddess, golden and radiant.

She smiled one last time at her reflection before she turned on a stylish heel. Her shoes were heels, golden, thin straps wrapping delicately around her ankles and lower calves.

She felt good as she left her bedroom, rejoining the maids she'd sent away to outside her room. It was time she found Thor.

She felt no reservations now. She felt herself again; lifting her chin up, she felt proud. She smiled happy and triumphant as she strode effortlessly down the corridor, the flow in the material behind her making her feel like she was gliding down the corridor, flowing like water. She felt unstoppable, the happiest woman in the world.

The maids followed obediently behind her, and Imogen heard them whisper and giggle. It just made her smile wider - everyone was happy this day.

She didn't want to think of how many people would be there today. It would be as celebrated as their wedding day, the outer Hall spilling out into the kingdom so all, far and wide could stand and see. That was terrifying... but feeling the way she was, not even that would be able to stop her.

Excitement bubbled in her stomach as the walls of palace morphed into glorious gold and she turned a corner - and there was Thor.

She stopped in her tracks, the breath freezing in her lungs. He looked... magnificent!

His armour hug every muscled morsel of his body perfectly, showing his strength and power to glory. He looked tall and mighty, cape billowing from his shoulders...but his face was soft. His mouth was stretched in a relaxed smile, eyes bright and happy, skin glowing with joy. His hair was golden and beautiful around his face, before his winged helmet took over, shielding the rest of his head. He looked truly the vision of a king. Strong and powerful, but kind and gentle - he was perfect.

His eyes lifted from talking with his own servant and his moving mouth stopped instantly when he saw her. His eyes glimmered with ..well, everything. Pride, joy, adoration, love...

Enough to have him clap his servant on the shoulder in dismissal and stride past him towards her, eyes roaming hungrily over her lush form. Imogen fought the blush. Now wasn't the time for modesty. She didn't need to be - she was beautiful, and she knew it.

"Wow.." he breathed as he drew to a halt in front of her. His eyes scoured over her body. "You look..." He looked like he couldn't even string a sentence together, couldn't take his eyes off her. "Incredible." he finally settled on with a gasp.

Imogen giggled as his eyes finally lifted back to hers, and she held nothing back in her beam as Thor's fingers gathered up hers and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She felt like her heart was going to burst out of her chest. Behind her back, her spare hand waved the maids away and she listened to them shuffle away obediently. She wanted a moment alone with her husband.

Servants out the way, she had no qualms about wrapping her arms around Thor's neck and drawing his lips into hers for a deep, slow kiss.

"Well it was your input on the design that made the dress so beautiful." she breathed against his mouth before claiming it again, stroking her tongue slowly and leisurely with his.

"Hm." Thor hummed in agreement against her lips. "But I'm not talking about the dress. I'm talking about the woman in it."

Imogen giggled again and let her body sway in Thor's arms as he wrapped them around her waist, hugging her close. She moaned happily as Thor kissed her tenderly, his mouth moving slow and hot on hers. His fingers massaged her skin through her dress, palm running over her curves gratefully. His growl of approval rumbled in his chest.

Imogen fought down the smirk, her hand finding Thor's armoured chest. She pushed herself back off his lips. Thor leaned forward and claimed hers again.

She gave into his kisses, knowing they didn't have long. She could hear Odin's voice further down the corridor, echoing from the Hall. At the end, a golden curtain hid them from the crowd of Asgardians. They still had time though. Not much.

Her tongue danced with Thor's, tasting the honey and sweetness from the mead he'd been drinking earlier. And he tasted her lack. "You've been drinking." Imogen breathed in between kisses.

Thor hummed again. "And you haven't." His arms tightened around her pleasingly. "Anyone would think you were with child by your abstinence these last days." he murmured, grazing his lips over hers tenderly.

Imogen tried to keep her heartbeat steady. Her thoughts flew back to the powder back in her draw, praying that it would work. Her hand cupped Thor's cheek sweetly, thumb brushing over the edge of his stubble. Her eyes followed it dreamily. "I see... I see a child in our future, Thor." she said thoughtfully. "A boy."

She felt Thor suck in a breath, felt it swell in his chest as he held it. His eyes were half lidded as his lips leaned forward to peck hers again. "How can you know?" he breathed.

Imogen just smiled, her bright eyes scouring over her husband's perfect face. "I just know."

She had faith. It had to work, it had to. Maybe she had their little prince inside her already and they just didn't know about him yet. It would make Thor so happy. She remembered the look of love and wonder on his face when Shelby had been born. It would be so much better with a boy, knowing they'd have an heir...

She brushed it out of her mind again, turning her attention back to the prince kissing her, holding her. Her hand pressed against his chest... then her fingers began to wonder.

His armour stopped him feeling her fingers travelling their slow journey south over his torso and obdomen, until she brushed under his belt and the hard bulge that sat there. Thor froze instantly. Imogen pressed her fingers against the hardness hidden behind the fabric and smirked when his hips leaned into her hand slightly, a heated sigh washing over her lips.

"It looks like you have a definite problem." she murmured, drawing her mouth back and away from his. Thor growled quietly in response.

She snatched her hand away though as the servant that had been tending to Thor reappeared at the end of the corridor. "Prince Thor." he called, not needing to worry about being overheard much as the noise of the crowd started to pick up behind him. "It's nearly time."

Imogen could hear Odin talking louder, building up Thor's entrance. Thor's arms released her instantly, and the followed the servant up the corridor with haste until they stood right in front of the golden curtain, the man stood to the side, ready to open it. Thor picked up his hammer from the floor beside him as he walked, testing the weight of Mjolnir in his hand as they moved where directed. In place, Thor offered Imogen is arm, and she laced her arm though his, fixing her dress on her person, any stray strand of hair.

"You look perfect." Thor reassured, his soft blue eyes watching her needlessly fuss. He meant every word.

The crowd was growing in volume but Thor knew they would be kept at bay from the royal couple, a guard-carved path to the throne laid out for them beyond the curtain. He couldn't wait to see it.

"In an hour," Imogen breathed, the realisation of what was going to happen setting in at last. "We'll be King and Queen." she gasped.

Thor's arm just squeezed hers in response; the curtain started to part.

Imogen resisted the urge to gasp again as the Hall was revealed to them, the roar of the crowd growing to deafening volume. She saw why Thor hadn't said anything back now - she wouldn't have been able to hear him, even from right beside her. The Hall opened as a shimmering image of gold, overflowing with people, all cheering, all happy.

Imogen followed Thor's lead as he stepped forward into the applause, raising his hammer high in triumph, urging on the crowd. _Show off, _she thought in her head.

It took every ounce of her self control not to round her shoulders shyly or to hide her face. There were so many people...all staring at them...

Her dress must glimmer in the sunlight she thought, watching the way the light danced from the armour of the guards that lined the path to Odin and the throne, the Warriors Three, Sif and Loki lining one side and Frigga and Imogen's parents, holding Shelby, the other. Her family.

Her smile suddenly became very real as her eyes focussed on the beams of her mother and father, and her little girl in their arms. She didn't know what they'd done to make her stop crying with all this noise around her, but she prayed it held just long enough to get the ceremony over with flawlessly. She wanted everything to go perfectly.

Scanning the crowd, her heart swelled happily when she didn't find a single cold or glaring eye in her direction. Maybe the crowd was just too dense for her to see the scowling faces of the court but she wasn't somplaining. Everyone was smiling, cheering, looking at her while they did it...

Maybe things would be okay after all.

She smiled and gave small waves, though she was reluctant to move her hands from the safety of Thor's strong bicep. She wasn't like him; egging on the crowd however he could - cheering along, lifting his hammer, tossing it impressively, just to show off his strength...he was loving the attention.

Imogen kept her attention ahead. The throne was impressive, a golden seat lifted up on two platforms of steps. It was a vision of glory, with Odin sat at the centre. She tried not to eye the steps. Gods, what if she tripped? That would just be awful! No doubt Thor would just laugh it off and help her up but.. _don't do it, don't do it, don't do it,_ she willed in her head, as if that would make it any less likely.

They walked steadily and she felt her ears almost ringing from the crowds cheers as they neared the throne. Everyone was smiling. Except for Odin, of course. He was solemn, dutiful.

She tried to fix her beam into something more respectful as they approached the feet of the first layer of stairs. Thor did the opposite; she rolled her eyes as she caught him grin at his friends, winking at his mother. She couldn't help it. She chuckled though at the scolding look on Frigga's face, not that Thor took any heed. There was no dampening his spirits today!

She followed his lead as they stopped at the foot of the first layer of steps and he sank smoothly to his knees. Imogen did the same, trying to make sure the awkward ache the position set in her limbs, from her heels and trying to look graceful, didn't show on her face.

She bowed her head respectfully and let her arm fall from Thor's to her side as he set down his hammer and removed his helmet. She had to seriously restrain herself to keep from turning and staring at him. She kept her eyes firmly ahead, gulping subtly as Odin rose from the throne. _This was it_, she breathed in her head.

A single thud of the butt of Odin's staff settling on the grand floor, silenced the room instantly.

Imogen's eyes scoured over everyone she could see before her as the Hall settled, as if that would calm her nerves. She was defininely the most scandalously dressed. The warriors, Loki and Sif were all dressed in their armour, looking as proud as any protectors of Asgard should. Her father wore armour too for the ceremony, the same fine plates he'd worn for her wedding. The Queen wore a stunning dress of gold and jewels, glittering like a star, while Imogen's mother dressed in a plain cream gown, modest and fitting to her personality. Even Shelby was dressed up, covered in a gown of flowing ivory coloured lace. Imogen hadn't let her have jewels. She'd only find a way to get them in her mouth somehow.

She sucked in a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart. Odin looked splendid in his armour and shimmering gold helmet. She tried not to feel too intimidated of her father-in-law.

His eyes were on Thor, she told herself as her head lifted. She had nothing to fear. He liked her anyway.

"Thor Odinson." he said in an almost soft voice, surprising her. She didn't complain though; she felt her heart unwind in her chest, relaxing as the tention melted away. His voice travelled through the whole hall effortlessly, no one missing a single word. "My heir...my first born. So long entrusted with the mighty hammer, Mjolnir, forged in the heart of a dying star." Every word rung out clear and with power. With the authority of a king. Soon to be Thor's. "It's power has no equal, as a weapon to destroy, or as a tool to build. 'Tis a fit companion for a king." Odin nodded lightly, as if more to himself than anyone else.

Imogen breathed a smile, glancing to the side slightly. She was so proud of Thor. He really did treasure that weapon, caring for it as if it was as much his child as Shelby was. Even though the crown wasn't something that could be earned, she felt like Thor deserved this. Deserved to be king.

Her smile softened happily as she let her eyes fall on her husband, his own lips curved in a gentle smile as he watched his father speak. Imogen just listened.

"I have defended Asgard and the lives of the innocent across the nine realms, from the time of the great begining." The king spoke slowly and clearly, every word the right combination of powerful and soft. Imogen listened to it gladly. "Though the day has come where I must surrender that burden. To you, my chosen successor."

Imogen sucked in a breath and blinked her eyes furiously. Her eyes were teary - why was she crying? She was happy. She didn't need to shed any tears today.

She blinked away the blurriness in her orbs. She had to save her make up - not to mention her pride! _This was a good day_, she told herself, reigning in her rampant emotions. Thor was getting what he deserved, all he'd ever wanted.

She pressed her lips together in a firm smile as Odin began the oath to be sworn. He was never one for long speeches.

"Do you swear to guard the Nine Realms?" rung out firmly.

Imogen had to watch his reply; the excited, playful gleam wasn't in Thor's eyes anymore. It was all deadly serious now, ready to take on the solemn responsibility he was born for. "I swear."

"And do you swear to preserve the peace?"

"I swear."

She was so proud of him. As foolish as it sounded, she was so proud of him. Everything that had happened - marrying her, a servant, having a child with her, fending off the court.. and now he was being rewarded.

The court must be seething, Imogen thought with a smug, inward smirk. To see her, glorious in gold, ready to take up power alongside them - hell, above them! They were infuential, but they were not king. They would not be able to touch her again. Thor would be king. They could not hurt him then, or her.

Well, they could...

"Do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and to pledge yourself only to the good of the Realms?"

Thor's tone had been growing progressively bolder and stronger and with this vow, he raised his hammer proudly in the air, shouting the words for all the gods to hear: "I swear!"

He was a king, Imogen realised in that moment. He was a king man, and a glorious warrior, but looking at him now, proud and splendid... he was a king. Not a young, reckless prince as when she'd met him. There would be no more groping in corridors, or public arguments. He had grown. Matured. He was ready now.

But was she?

Her blood froze in her chest and she felt her hand twitch to move to her stomach instinctively, as Odin's eyes moved to her. She thought of the microscopic son she had in her belly, and how she had to do this for him.

"And do you, Imogen Aevardottir," The Alfather went on in his powerful voice, unyielding it's proud boom. Her vows were just as important as Thor's. She was being entrusted with great power, the same as him. "Swear to serve and support Thor in all that he does as King from this day forward?"

She gulped before she could help it, eyes flickering to Thor as if for support. She was almost surprised when she found his cool crystal blue eyes actually looking at her; she'd thought he'd stay looking ahead, looking majestic as anything.

But he'd put that on hold for her, for his wife. The smile twitched on her face, and suddenly the worries about those two fateful words just melted away.

She was calm as she swore, not to the kingdom or to Odin - to Thor. "I swear."

She was his wife, and she would stay by his side through Hel-fire and back. She would never leave him. And once she gave him this son, he would be so proud of her. She would have earned her place as Queen, once she gave him a son of his own, ready to one day kneel where his father knelt now.

Imogen couldn't smile. She couldn't. Her lips stayed calm and relaxed, just as Thor's, but their eyes... their eyes blazed together, burning with a connection deeper than any outsider could understand. It was so strong, burning inside Imogen's left breast like wild-fire.

She would do anything for this man. And she just had.

"Then, on this day, I, Odin Allfather, proclaim you, Thor Odinson and Imogen Aevardottir, King and Queen of Asgard."

XXX

Imogen blinked, trying to take in the fact that this wasn't all a dream. It felt surreal, just incredible. Too incredible, surely?

Then she looked around her; at the golden throne that sat and lifted her husband above the Hall of citizens beside her, saw their cheering faces, felt the pressure of Thor's hand around hers and the weight of the thin metal, intricate golden wreath nestled comfortably around her temples...it was real. She was Queen.

The smile blossomed on her face.

XXX

Vaguely she remembered Thor taking up his helmet whilst they were still knelt at the base of the steps, Odin's final words still echoing around the grand hall. Settling the winged headgear back over his golden locks, he took her hand and guided her to rise with him.

She had no idea what she was doing. Her hand clung to his, sweaty and very nervous as he led her up the steps, very aware that her entire right leg was as good as bare for the kingdom to see. What if she tripped? She was consumed with nerves as she and Thor slowly ascended the steps to their new throne.

He moved calm and with purpose, but all Imogen could notice was the loud thump of her heart beating in her chest. She'd been so calm just moments ago...

Now was different. Now, she was Queen.

And she was terrified.

She forced herself to take slow, steady breaths, telling herself the worst was over. All she had to do now was follow Thor. From this day, follow him in everything he did.

She trusted him, and lifted her eyes to his throne. Glisten and golden, waiting for it's new owner to take his place, it shimmered in the sunlight as Thor and Imogen rose to the top of the steps and stood on the same platform as the throne and Odin. The wisened man stepped back graciously to admit his son passage.

Imogen smiled at the former king and her heart skipped a beat when he smiled softly back, light now dancing in his orbs. He could be happy now. It was done. Thor was king, and he was happy for his son.

And her too.

Thor nodded politely to his father as they passed, but Imogen stared ahead at the throne. Once she was there, all she had to do for the rest of the day was stand, smile and look pretty. The pressure would be off. She would have time to just daydream about the days ahead and the son that hopefully grew in her womb that she could include in those plans.

Her heartbeat upped its racing pattern with every step they got closer to the throne. What would this mean for her? Safety. An extra barrier between her and the court. And once her boy arrived, they would leave her alone for good. This was the first step.

Her throat was dry as she blinked and stared at the throne, just a step away. This was it, she thought as Thor drew to a stop beside her, hand gently squeezing hers to urge her to do the same. She stopped instantly.

What now? she asked silently in her head, eyes glancing to Thor for an answer. He wasn't looking at her though; he was looking to the side, to his father.

Her eyes followed his and she watched the Alfather step forward again, this time hands full as he carried forth a delicate cushion, something shimmering on it's top. The small smile was still on his lips. Thor found her other hand and guided her to face him, their sides to the kingdom. She was glad it was the side with the solid coloured skirt facing the world.

Her heart was going crazy. What was happening? Finally, she caught Thor's eye; strong, calm and bold, soothing her panicking heart quickly. It was fine, she told herself. As long as Thor was here, it would be fine. Whatever 'it' was.

Then Odin stood between the kingdom and the couple, and Imogen finally saw what he bore on the delicate cushion: her crown.

Thin and delicate, simply beautiful, the gold metal shimmered, twisting in such a dazzling, but modest pattern. It was stunning. Of all the jewellery in the world, this was the one thing Imogen had never even dreamed of wearing. And now here it was - hers.

Even Thor was smiling as he set his hammer down on his throne seat and with delicate fingers, lifted the Queen's crown from the cushion. Imogen didn't even see Odin move aside, too focused on her husband before her, about to crown her. This was more terrifying than walking, than taking her oath. She tried not to have a heart attack - this moment was solely for her, she realised. Just for her.

Her eyes lifted timidly to Thor, but the moment she glanced the majesty and grace his orbs held, her head bowed instinctively. This was her king. Boy, he looked like a king. He seemed to glow with royal radiance. Her body just reacted, feeling intimidated by the power in front of her, but not in a fearful way; more like awe. Her knees crossed and bent, and she curtsied gracefully before her husband and king. It felt right. She'd never bowed to him before before, but she felt his warmth and strength run over her, comforting her racing heart.

She wanted to serve this man. The same way she'd sworn to on her wedding day and just again at the base of the steps, this man was her life and she would do whatever she could to make him happy.

And firstly, she would give him a son.

She felt her heart beat with love for Thor as she _felt _his smile widen, glimpsing his hands move out of the corner of her eye.

She kept her head modestly bowed.

The kingdom wanted a soft, modest Queen, and if she could play that part, earn their trust, it would be an extra block to the court's ploys. As powerful as they were, they couldn't act against a figure the entire kingdom loved. Twenty couldn't stand against twenty million.

She let her lips quirk in a smile as she felt the cool metal of the crown slowly descend over the crown of her head, slipping over her locks of hair. Thor settled it gently over her temples.

She had a crown. She really was Queen. She forced her smile to be more modest as Thor's hands cupped her shoulders and guided her upright again, rising as a Queen. She couldn't believe it. She looked up to Thor happily, feeling more like a Queen worthy to stand at his side; he smiled down at her proudly, eyes sparkling with light.

There was no reservation in Imogen's face now. She felt her heart swell and push the fear away, limbs filled with a new found strength as Thor captured her hand softly in his and turned to face the crowd, grasping Mjolnir again as he did.

His fingers gripped hers a fraction harder in warning, a second before he acted; he threw his arms in the air victoriously, and the crowd roared.

Imogen gasped a smile, feeling the movement tug at her shoulder socket, even though Thor hadn't even reached his arm out as fully as he had the one holding Mjolnir. She wished she wasn't so short, so he might enjoy his moment better. Still... she covered it with a beam, facing forward, gazing over the scores of people that now looked to her as Queen. The noise was truly deafening!

She squeezed his hand back and straightened her arm of her own accord, sharing his victory. They had claimed this throne together; they were both rulers. Her heart soared.

This was it, she thought, thinking of the small weight resting on her head. That crown placed her higher on Thor's trust list than the court - not that she hadn't been already. But now it was official, for the whole realm to see it. They couldn't so much as say a bad word to her now. Maybe even a foul look was beyond their reach now.

She was their Queen.

She couldn't hold back her smile as she felt Thor's arm slowly ease up on hers and out of the corner of her eye, she watched him slowly sink into his throne. She took a tiny step back, to stand level with him. His hand never left hers, still raised high in joy, even as he sat, claiming his title.

Imogen stood at his side, proudly, chin held up high and dignified. She was safe now, she thought. With the crown, and the medicine in their chambers, they would be safe. Thor was King and she was Queen, and as soon as she gave him a son, no one would dare have the power to even think badly of her, let alone act.

In less than a year, she and Thor would be untouchable.

XXX

"Congratulations, your Majesty." the Warrior goddess, Sif bowed in front of Imogen, having bowed to her new king already.

Imogen just nodded graciously, as the Warrior rose, smiling kindly. She liked the war goddess; Sif was kind to her, and they shared the same fighting spirit, both strong and independant, not afraid to fight for what they want. Honestly, she thought a part of it was that they were just drawn to each other, few women in this world of controlling men who were willing to stand up for themselves.

She shared a eye-sparling smirk with the Warrior as she stepped aside, to go and rejoin the feasting happening on the main floor.

Her eyes turned to the next person to pay their congratulations - and her heart sank with her smile.

Lord Roanull.

She swore in her head.

The senior courtier sent a smooth smirk her way before he bowed, gathering up her fingers in his and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. She held her breath as she watched him.

For such a young man, as middle aged as he looked, he was incredibly influential within the court, his wealth buying him as much. Coming from such a powerful, rich family had its advantages. His clean blonde hair was combed neatly, and he was dressed in a rich blue tunic. Lord Roanull wasn't a warrior. A nobleman, not a warrior. Still, it was always he that proved the greatest fund towards the army, warrior or not.

He was the head of the court, and everyone knew it. He made her skin crawl as his lips touched her knuckles.

She pursed her lips, and it was all she could do not to wrench her hand away. This was the man who'd orchestrated her husband to sleep with another woman, who started all the gossip and bad rumours about her. He was the source, of that she had no doubt.

His eyes were glittering as he straghtened up and _finally _released her hand. "My Queen." he murmured smoothly, eyes sparkling mischievly. As if this was just as game. As if she wasn't his Queen.

She guessed in his heart, she wasn't. She was still just the peasant girl, dressing up in a crown and fancy dress. To him, she had no right to rule over him. But the crown on her head and the ring on her finger said other wise, and the god at her side was there for good measure too.

She refused to let her chin dip even a fraction. This man was her lesser now. She had authority over him. "Lord Roanull." she said stiffly.

She didn't like this man. And he damn well knew it; that was why his eyes were sparkling so, why he was smiling. He was taunting her. Mocking her. Still treating her like an insolent little servant playing dress up, waiting for the prince - no, _king _- to hand her over to him for punishment one day. He'd be waiting forever, she thought in her head.

"Congratulations on the coronation." he went on. He spoke so warmly, so smoothly. No one would know there was anything wrong between them if it hadn't been for Imogen's cold, wary eyes. "It will be interesting to see more of each other in court."

Imogen just narrowed her eyes. "Interesting is one word for it."

The man was like a snake; Imogen didn't trust him one bit. This was what had been whispering in her husband's ear? He seemed just as slippery as Loki...

Roanull's smirk twitched at the corner and Imogen's skin crawled. She wouldn't trust this man to open a jar let alone advise her husband! She wondered if his wife was just as shrewd and manipulative, if his children bore the same poisonous nature.

She didn't get a chance to ask though as the following noble touched a polite hand to Roanull's shoulder; he was holding up the queue. Good, she thought. _Get him out of my sight_. But it felt dangerous to let him go. Especially when he roamed his sparkling eyes back to her, laced with something only Imogen could read - a promise. A dark promise. He was going to make her life hell, she could tell.

She pressed her lips tighter together tighter, loathing the man more and more as he curved his lips into an ever polite smile and nodded his head. "My Queen." he murmured again warmly.

Imogen saw through it in a heartbeat; she didn't take her eyes off the bastard even as he stepped away, turning his back on her. Thoughts raced round her head quickly. She'd have to keep her guard up, she thought as the next noble kissed her hand, straightening up with a dull mumble. She couldn't trust these people.

Especially him, she thought, still eyeing the manipulative Lord as he spoke with her parents, her baby in their arms. Thoughts of all the murderous things she would do to him if he so much as _touched_ her little girl...

Once she had her son though, that man would never be a threat to her ever again. She held onto that.

Then something caught her eye from across the Hall, in the open doorway. She froze as she glanced up, heart stopping in her chest. It seemed to move in slow motion. The guards walking across the doorway didn't break pace as they walked, as good as dragging the thin, filthy figure between them. Quite a contrast to the grandeur of the Hall, and the occasion inside.

She shouldn't have been able to see, but she had. She shouldn't have been able to know who it was being carried away, but she did. She shouldn't have been able to feel the hatred in the gaze, so very, very far away...

Elga's glaring eyes, weighed with hate bore into her, even across such a distance. Imogen went numb, barely hearing the 'Your Majesty's or feeling the kisses to her hand. She just saw the bedraggled woman across the Hall.

The lengthy stretch in prison had done Elga no favours. Her thin, bony frame was dressed in dirt ridden rags, her filthy blonde locks lank and greasy around her face. Her cheeks were hollowed, her cheekbones jutting out, eyes sunken... but the venomous look they held was stronger than her physical form. And Imogen was no fool; no matter how weak her body was, Elga's hate would probably fuel realms. _She'd_ done this to the woman. _She'd _stolen two years of Elga's life, put her through such torture...

Here Imogen was, at the height of her glory. Crown, husband and child. Everything... and Elga was being dragged to see her first sunshine in two years.

Her limbs barely had the strength to hold her upright, the guards dragging her more than anything.

It was a second. Just a second.

But a second was enough.

Imogen felt her blood run cold, feel it flee her face. The more she hovered on those orbs, swirling with hate, the more fear pooled in her belly, clawing at her. Why did she feel like this? Why did she feel like something bad was about to happen? She felt sick...

"Imogen." Thor's hand touched gently at her elbow and she glanced down instinctively to her husband at the nudge, tearing it from the doorway. His soft blue eyes frowned lightly. "Is everything alright?"

Her mouth opened to answer, heart racing, mind spinning...then she glanced to the doorway and found it empty, as if the prisoner had never even been there at all. As if it had all been a dark fantasy. But she had. Elga's dark, condemning eyes, thick with a promise of malice hung in her mind warningly, and she couldn't shake the chill that gripped her spine.

Was everything alright? The horror that clawed in her gut, the unexplainable dread...

She couldn't give her husband an honest answer.

**NOTE**

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	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Finger's braided Imogen's dark locks tenderly, while the Queen watched in the boudoire mirror with a beaming smile on her face. Her hand roamed delicately over her stomach - her round, five month pregnant stomach.

She glanced down to her belly happily.

Just weeks after their coronation, she'd noticed. It hadn't taken long. She'd been braced to wait for months, taking the powder with water diligently as she'd been instructed. And then just two weeks after she was crowned Queen, she'd missed her monthly bleed - and she knew she'd finally been blessed with the child she'd longer for.

Her fingers danced caressingly over her belly, the thin white material of her dress, gathered in a halter neck, flowing over her body beautifully. She just prayed there was a tiny prince in there.

Things were different being Queen. Their lives had changed beyond their titles. The new chambers were one thing; the day of the coronation she and Thor had been moved to a bigger, grander room, with two guards posted permenantly outside. It was nice, Imogen thought. She liked it. And she'd been thankful when whoever had made the move for them had simply brought their old stuff into their new room, not changing or going through anything. If they had decided otherwise, Imogen's secret remedy might have been uncovered.

"How fares the baby, my Lady?" one of the girls gently styling her asked. That was another thing Imogen had to get used to; she had a permenant entourage of maids follow her.

Imogen glanced to the girl. She liked this one. Quiet but attentive, diligent to meet her every request flawlessly. She was a good servant. Imogen didn't yet remember her name, but...

Her smile grew as she scoured over the girl's sweet, sincere face. She was so young, no older than fifteen, surely. Imogen smoothed her hands over her belly as she answered, smiling down at her skin covered five month old child. "My prince is dancing." she said.

Gentle hands smoothed round the back of Imogen's intricate thin braids and she turned her head slightly to the more mature maid, just behind her shoulder. "Soon he will be kicking."

Imogen smiled as the woman gently cupped her Queen's shoulders before getting back to positioning the thin braids of hair.

The thoughts were still merrily in her head as she turned back to the mirror, admiring the braids that laced and snaked over the raven dark locks of her hair. She hoped Thor liked it. She wanted to look nice for her husband as of late, knowing how hard he was working with his new duties as king, how excited he was as the prospect of being a father again.

He loved her when she was with child. Her breasts were round, and her stomach rounder, and the glorious smooth curves just flat out did it for her husband.

If only she could see him more. That was what had changed the most about their new station; Thor was called away on business frequently to address his court and advisors, day or night. There would be days when she wouldn't see her husband. A week sometimes, when she'd be left in bed alone.

Well, not alone. Those were the nights she took Shelby out of her crib and to her and Thor's mattress, sleeping with her precious child by her side.

She hadn't been a good mother to her daughter. Not recently. Not since the pressure for a son had dawned. But now that pressure had lifted and Imogen could love her daughter for who she was, merely thankful the child wasn't old enough to hold onto the memories of her disappointment. Her brother had come just in time.

Imogen glanced over her shoulder, the maids' hands melting away from her smoothly at her movement. The smile fixed on her face as she drank in the picture of her sweet girl, soundly asleep on her and Thor's bed.

Nowadays, Imogen could barely part from her. She took Shelby everywhere she went, cradled in her arms or over her shoulder. Her daughter saw the world now. Imogen liked taking her out into the gardens, to play in the orchard and enchant her with leaves and flowers. She was able to nibble a piece of apple last time.

And now Imogen saw what Thor had been so happy about - she did smile. It made Imogen's heart soar when her baby girl smiled at her - or laughed! She'd been doing that of late. Her energy was growing everyday, and the more she grew, the more Imogen could see how she was like her father. It was like she could carry around a pocket sized version of her husband with her where she went.

"Would you like me to bring her to you?" the young maid asked beside Imogen.

Imogen shook her head softly; Shelby lay on her back, head rolled so her face was in Imogen's direction, her eyes fluttered closed in a deep sleep. Her little body rose and fell with gentle breaths. She was in such peace.

And for once, Imogen felt the same. She felt relaxed. Her son was on his way, she and Thor were on the throne, the court were even leaving her alone for the time being - what was there for her to worry about? The smile curved on her lips just at the thought. Life was perfect.

And nothing more of Elga had been heard. That had been the greatest relief. Imogen had felt such accute dread she just _knew_ something had to go wrong. She'd been so sure, feeling the heart stopping hatred that Elga felt for her bear into her soul from the broken woman's eyes... but nothing had happened. She was with child, and things were fine.

She hadn't told Thor about Elga, nor about her feelings. She didn't want him to worry. She just wanted to forget. And she hadn't been sure. How could she explain a 'feeling'? It was ludicrous!

And pointless, it turned out. Everything was fine, and the woman hadn't crossed the Queen's mind for months. That part of her life was over, new glorious days replacing it.

A tad lonely, but...

She didn't care for her ladies-in-waiting's company much. She prefered to spend time with her mother and father, or Shelby, or Thor...but Thor was always busy. She saw him all day on the seventh day of the week, where they sat in the Hall for the citizens to come to their rulers and ask for specific help, or to resolve a matter.

Beyond that day though, she dressed with Thor in the mornings, he kissed her good day, and then he was gone. He ate with the court in the morning. He ate with his family in the evening - if duty allowed him - but aside from that, Imogen didn't see him all day.

Well, she _could_. Sometimes she went to watch her husband train, just to see him. And he didn't disappoint. He always came over, as sweaty and hard working as he was, to give her a kiss. He always took time out for her. But her ladies- in- waiting always followed and got flustered around the god, stripped to the waist, every inch of his perfect torso on display. She didn't like the way they oggled him.

Similarly, she was allowed to sit in on the court proceedings and be present to bless marriages alongside her husband if she wanted. But she was not to get involved with politics or battle in anyway; the council rooms she was actively banned from. Even in the justice courts, she was expected to stay silent.

Imogen didn't think she'd be able to do it. She'd blab her mouth eventually so she thought it best to simply stay away. She didn't want to ruin Thor's favours, nor her future son's.

"When is the baby due, my Lady?"

Imogen dipped her attention out of her thoughts and focussed mildly on her ladies. There were three of them; one to her left, one to her right, and one watching over her baby girl diligently. Again, it was the younger woman who had spoken.

Imogen didn't mind actually. Once upon a time the questions from a _maid_ might have annoyed her, but now... she was happy to talk about her bouncing baby boy growing in her belly. She even turned to smile at the young girl. "He still has another four moons before he'll be ready for us." she smiled, hands twisting in her lap in excitement.

"And how do you know it's a boy?" the slightly older woman asked. "Has the Lady Frigga confirmed it?"

No, Imogen thought in her head, spirits rapidly falling as she thought of how she knew it was a boy. Not that she could tell these women of her powder. That would be disasterous.

"But the Queen is carrying low." the woman at Shelby's side called over. "Everyone knows that is a sign of carrying a boy."

Imogen breathed out a sigh of relief.

"My mother told me that if a woman didn't have morning sickness, she was with a son." the young girl chipped in, fingers moving to Imogen's hair again. "And I have not seen the Queen ill, have you?"

It was true. Imogen hadn't had morning sickness like she had with Shelby. Her first pregnancy hadn't been bad, but she'd still thrown up routinely every morning. Yet, with her son, she merely felt queasy, but nothing was ever hauled up from her stomach.

She felt smug now as she turned to the first woman, who had questioned her judgement. Her cheeks were now flushed with embarrassment, head bowed. "I was told the only way to know for sure was the ring test." she finally mumbled, almost inaudibly. "Forgive me, my Queen. I meant no disrespect."

Imogen didn't mind. Actually, she was rather excited now. Thus far, she'd just known her child was a boy, the magic sealing it so. It gave her no credibility with the other women though. She needed some other proof.

"Well, if it will quell your doubts..." Imogen slipped the gold wedding band off her finger and watched the maid's eyes widen.

One thing this woman had to learn about her Queen, was that she never backed down from a challenge. The two women rose with her as she stood up, eyes scouring the boudoire for some string.

The younger woman found some first. "Here, my Lady."

Imogen took the burgandy coloured thread from her with a smile, catching sight of the needle work the girl must have snipped it from on a stool across the room. She tied the end around her wedding ring as she walked to the bed.

She shook her head as the maid at Shelby's side went to move the infant, but Imogen didn't want to disturb her. She could fit on the bed, anyway.

She forced the string into the questioning woman's hands without asking before sitting on the bed, moving until she was lying down, her hands resting either side of her bump. She shifted comfortably, feeling the soft pillows beneath her head, tucking her legs to the side to not hit her daughter.

Timidly, the maid with the string moved forward, her eyes downcast as she approached the bedside. The younger maid watched from the foot of the bed avidly.

The woman sighed before she finally lifted the string bound ring and let it dangle freely over Imogen's round stomach.

Imogen was excited. She hadn't done the test before, not even when she'd been pregnant with Shelby. With Shelby, it just hadn't mattered. She'd been preoccupied with her wedding too then, and her honeymoon after that. She was excited to get this normal pregnancy experience at last.

Her heart was in her mouth though as the ring's movement's started to settle into repetition - what if it wasn't a boy?

All eyes were on the ring, as it started to swing in a solid line, back and forth across Imogen's pregnant stomach. _What did that mean? _the Queen breathed in her head. What did side to side mean?

She knew that Thor loved their daugther, but she also knew how badly he wanted a son. Not for political reasons; just to have a proud baby boy boucing on his knee, to teach to fight, to build up strong, to have a smaller version of him to be proud of. And Imogen wanted to give that to him.

Her eyes met the maid's as her's lifted at last, her expression unreadable. Imogen waited on tenter hooks.

Finally - "You were right, your Majesty." the woman said at last, stiffly. "It's a boy."

XXX

Imogen wasn't disappointed.

She tipped her head back to rest on Thor's shoulder as he moved beneath her, rolling his hips up into hers. His arms wrapped securely around his wife, one hand cupping her pregnant stomach and the other fondling her shapely breast.

The Queen sat in her husband's lap, her knees either side of his thighs as he held her back against his chest, his lips fused to the place where her neck met her shoulder.

She felt in Heaven.

He was so deep inside her like this and she sighed in bliss, Thor moving slow and sweet with her. There was no rushing tonight.

It had been a good day for Thor it seemed; there had been no grumbling or aggressive thrusting between her thighs when he'd come back.

Tonight, the god had come to his wife, enticingly laid out on the bed in a lacy nightgown that fell down to her high thighs, her hand resting on her proud bump and her eyes alight like molten violet.

He'd been naked within seconds.

He groaned, the noise muffled by Imogen's skin as he gently sank his teeth into the side of her neck, tasting her sweetness. She was perfect.

She pushed her chest into his hand as he gave her breast a tentative squeeze, knowing they were sensitive. He didn't want to cause her discomfort. Her fingers clung loosely to his arms wrapped around her and Thor knew it was just a need for something to hold onto rather than a desire to pull him away.

The cries she made when he rolled his pelvis up to meet hers, Imogen grinding down onto his rock hard erection...gods, it was addictive. Hearing the feminine purrs and whines that bled from her lips was simply mesmerising.

"Hmmm..." Thor hummed against his wife's skin, letting his senses surround him with thoughts of her; feeling her tight and wet inside, her hands gripping his, hearing the heated sighs that she released into the night, the sweet, alluring scent that was hers, the softness of her skin, the firm roundness to her stomach and the very squeezable flesh of her breast. "I love you."

Imogen just moaned in response, pushing her hips down harder on her husband, feeling him stretch her so fully inside her. She let out a high pitched whine as his tip found the sensative spot inside her and pressed against it.

This was always strange for Imogen; love making. Her personality was usually so headstrong, she was built for Thor's aggressive fucking. But since the day she confessed she was pregnant with Shelby, the day Thor confessed his undying love for her, taking it slow had been thrown in the mix. It brought a deeper connection to their embrace, made her heart beat with more than just lust and exertion.

She tried to push her knees further apart, to take him in deeper into her core, but he was as close to her as he could be. He rolled up gently into her, making her eyes roll back in her skull in pleasure.

Her husband never failed to disappoint her in the bedroom. He could fuck her into the next century or he could make love as gently as it she were made of glass. And she loved every second of it. Thor, as a lover, was simply mindblowing. She was so glad she didn't have to share him, that Thor stayed faithful so this pleasure was reserved for her, and her alone.

Imogen felt her insides quicken, her instinct to move faster and harder twitching her. Thor's hands held her steady though. "How was your day?" he sighed into her ear.

What?, Imogen gasped in her head. He was making love to her and thought it was fine to make general conversation at the same time? No, Imogen wanted to focus on him, on the sensation building in her trembling lower muscles. Thor was going to drive her mad with want with the slow pace he insisted on, refusing to speed, even to bring her to completion.

Still, she obliged with a groan, resting her head even heavily back on Thor's shoulder. "Fine." she gasped, Thor's tip making that blissful contact inside her again. Her mouth dropped open breathlessly. It took a moment to compose herself, from the luke warm pleasure that wrapped around her body. "I discovered that the child I am carrying is most definitely a son."

Thor stilled, hips and hands freezing. Imogen moaned again, wishing he would continue. "You are sure?" he breathed.

Imogen's hands squeezed enticingly on his arms, urging him to go on again. She needed this now, this release, so close.. "Yes, I'm sure."

No sooner had the words left her lips than Thor's arms crushed around her and she went numb in his embrace as his hips thrust firmly up into her. Right into that place inside her. Imogen's mouth fell open in a silent gasp, lingering on with her racing heartbeat as Thor thrust gently, but firmly up into that same spot, again and again...

And then she was unwinding in his arms, a throaty moan leaving her as she came undone around him. His teeth bit into her neck, as a hard thrust or two later, the god spilled himself inside her with a groan that rattled her bones.

Imogen just breathed, embracing the ache of below from Thor's love making, feeling the heated breath of his on her shoulder as he planted a soft kiss over where he'd bitten a moment ago.

The Queen was mindless; that had been one of the best orgasms she could ever remember. She was putty in Thor's hands as he held her to him still as he eased them down to the bed, resting on their sides. He stayed connected inside her, holding her hips back against his. He knew Imogen liked that, falling asleep with him still inside her.

And Thor didn't complain. His favourite thing to do was to be inside of his wife, and he was happy to extend this moment. His arms held her body to his chest as her head lolled against the pillows, thoroughly exhausted.

He'd chosen the position poorly though. It had been blissful when he was making love to her, but afterwards he liked to look into her drowsy, ecstasy filled violet orbs before she slipped into her slumber, longed to see her face so relaxed, for once nothing to think about but her own pleasure. He always said she thought too much. This was the only way he'd discovered to relax her.

His mouth rested on her little shoulder, lips parted as he let his eyes flutter shut. "Then I love you more than ever."

**NOTE**

**I added a tiny detail to the end of the last chapter that I'd idiotically forgotten, so you might want to go and check that out. Just saying.**

**Please review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Imogen screamed at the top of her lungs, pain ripping through her body like fire. Her swollen belly clenched powerfully in a merciless contraction.

Sweat glistened over her body from the long hours of labour, dressed in a thin, short white night dress that hitched around her hip bones as she lay on the bed of her and Thor's chambers. She screamed for all she was worth at the pain. She didn't care. It hurt like Hel.

Her mother gripped her hand hard at her side, murmuring encouraging words softly into her daughter's ear. To Imogen, though, it sounded more like praying.

And she had every right to pray.

This felt so, so wrong.

Tears glistened in Imogen's eyes as her body slumped, released at last for a blessed moment from the pain. She tipped her head back against the pillow, taking deep ragged breaths. Her hand flew to her stomach, to the source of her pain. Why was this happening? She was only seven months...

It had hit her in the morning, just hours after she'd met with her mother and the women to make more clothes for her future child... only that child wasn't waiting anymore. Just hours, and her needles had dropped to the floor with a fateful clatter, the first waves of pain seizing her. She hadn't understood. Hel, she still didn't! This wasn't right! They weren't prepared for this for another two months!

Her chest heaved with troubled breaths as she gasped for air, knowing another contraction wasn't far away. "Where's Thor?" she gasped. "Thor..."

She hadn't seen him for days. It was some business she didn't understand, that Thor didn't talk to her about. Whatever it was had been building and building for weeks, but the last few days... he'd barely left the court's counsel. Certainly, not to come back to her, to rest...

And now she was giving birth to their son in their chambers. She'd been sleeping in this room alone for nearly a week now.

Her eyes glanced to her left, to the bedside table. Her one. They each had a bedside table, and Imogen's was to the left; and inside the draw was her bundle bewitched powder. To her relief, the draw stayed closed. If anyone found it...

The thoughts were driven from her head as another contraction gripped her and she screwed her eyes shut, knees drawing up instinctively. She'd bore this for nine hours - word _had_ to have reached Thor by now. He had to be coming surely. He wouldn't miss this. He wouldn't miss the birth of his son, his future heir. He'd want to be here for when he arrived.

Unless something was holding him back, Imogen realised. Her blood ran cold. He'd been held back from her for days already - what was one more? It would be easy to block the message of her labour if the right people found out first.

People like Lord Roanull.

He was advising Thor through whatever was going in the court chambers, he was the one who had inevitably convinced Thor to stay so long as it was.

If he caught the messenger ... he wouldn't pass it on to Thor. He'd let Imogen suffer this alone. Of course, he would. He hated her. He wouldn't have second thoughts about keeping Thor in the dark like this just to spite her.

It filled her with fear though. She didn't want to fear that man, but the thought of going through this, this pain, this worry, without Thor at her side... she was terrified.

"My husband!" she cried, desperate for the women to listen to her.

The young, sweet maid caught her eye as she ran a damp, cool cloth over Imogen's sweating face. Her eyes were glistening softly. "The King will be here soon." she reassured, gently. "Word has been sent."

Her voice was soft and tender, the girl's eyes gentle and...it made Imogen's heart stop. That pity. That sympathy. That _fear. _Gods... pain started to ripple over her middle again but she didn't even have the will to shout anymore as her eyes numbly lingered on the girl, even as her gaze fell timidly and she retreated to the foot of the bed with the other ladies in waiting and the midwife. Imogen didn't forget that look though, and it frightened her.

Then an excruciating pain tore at her and she howled a broken cry, feeling her spirit start to shatter. This was too much, she thought. Even with Shelby it hadn't been this bad. She remembered. This pain was different. Was wrong. It shouldn't be like this...

Where was Frigga? Imogen thought breathlessly in her head. The goddess of childbearing should know what she was doing. But she wasn't here. If only she was, her grandchild would be in safe hands. Imogen didn't trust anyone more than her mother-in-law to deliver her child, as premature as it would be.

Why was everyone gone? It was like fate was determined to have her suffer for this child...

Punishing her even.

She'd used magic...

"Blood!"

The shriek caught Imogen's attention and her eyes glanced down the bed; the young maid had her hand over her startled mouth, eyes wide with shock as she stared between Imogen's legs.

The midwife pushed her aside in a heartbeat. Imogen's heart raced fearfully as the midwife dipped out of sight and Imogen threw her head back as more white hot pain crippled her womb and deeper. She caught a glimpse of the woman's face though; frowning. Urgent frowning. Something was wrong. Blood wasn't good, Imogen thought. Not with that reaction.

Her heart thudded wildly out of control and she felt her pores open in torrents of sweat, more from fear than exertion now. Another cry bled from her lips.

With Shelby Imogen had stayed near silent through her contractions. She'd gritted her teeth and bore it, not much louder than a groan leaving her lips.

This time though there was no staying silent. She couldn't. They pain was more than last time, deeper, sharper. It felt more like she'd been stabbed than gone into labour! And this time had drawn blood..._ a lot of blood_, Imogen thought as she noted the great dampness on her behind, between her thighs.

Finally, Imogen caught sight of the midwife again as she straightened up slightly from between Imogen's legs. The Queen's eyes were wide and desperate, but no one answered her gaze.

Not even her mother.

That scared her more than anything. What? What was happening? What did they know that she didn't?

Her racing heart only pounded harder as the midwife straightened up and turned away, grabbing one of the ladies-in-waiting roughly by the arm and dragging her with her. They stopped at the door, their backs to the Queen.

Imogen watched fearfully. What news were they sharing that they didn't want her to know? What? She felt like a fool with frightened eyes and fearful heart - she was usually so strong, so dignified. There was no place for that though. She was exhausted, the pain unimaginable, blood where her prince was supposed to be coming, and hushed talking.

"Go to the King." the midwife ordered the girl in an urgent voice under her breath, at the door. Imogen hardly heard her. She heard enough though; "Tell him his wife may not survive."

Imogen's heart stopped.

May not...survive.

She was going to die.

She didn't think anything else before the world swam, and she fell back, passing out amongst the sheets.

XXX

For the next few hours, Imogen flittered in and out of consciousness. She'd wake, only long enough to think of how she was still alive before the exhaustion and horror would crash back onto her and she would faint again, overwhelmed.

Suddenly, her mother's prayers had new found meaning: she wasn't praying for the wellbeing of her grandchild, but that of her daughter too.

The screaming had stopped a while ago. Imogen couldn't scream anymore. She was too exhausted, surrendering to her fate in silence. Her eyes cried. Her body still sweated. Imogen's heart beat faintly though; she was going to die...so young, yet she was going to die...

The young maid stayed diligently at her head, wiping Imogen's sweaty face, murmuring soft words to her Queen and Lady. Normally, Imogen would have hated it, loathed the boldness of the girl... but she was dying and she didn't care anymore. She was scared. She'd never felt such fear before, and her dignity went out of the window. She cried and held her mother's hand...and the girl's too.

"Please..." she finally begged, as more pain crippled her body and she screwed her eyes shut, turning her head to the young girl. She wasn't even sure what she was pleading for.

Small hands pushed the damp waves of Imogen's hair back from her face, smoothly, moving down to cup the Queen's cheek for a comforting second. Imogen's grasped for the little fingers, squeezing tightly. The girl said nothing of it.

"Fear not, my Lady." she said soothingly. "You are doing well." Even Imogen scoffed in her head. The girl knew nothing of childbirth - how did she know?! Even the midwife didn't dare give Imogen any information! She didn't have the energy to be hateful about it though, only scrunching her face up in another sob. She could cry; what did it matter now? "Your son and husband will be here soon."

That just made her cry harder, a fragile whine leaving her lips. She rolled her head, hiding her eyes as much as she could in the pillows. Would her husband really be here soon? Really? The message had been sent hours ago, and more before that... and Thor still hadn't come. He wouldn't even come to watch her die.

Maybe it was better the girl just smother her and get it over with. It would be more painless than this, less distressing. Imogen wasn't sure she could take any more.

But her son... she could give up her own life, but her son's? She couldn't kill him too. "Please," she prayed through her tears. She wanted him to live, even if she did not. She'd sold more than her money for this child. She'd cast aside the law for this boy, meddled with things she should have not. She didn't want that, and her death, to be for nothing.

But her mind slipped the second her heart skipped a beat, aching in her chest. Was it supposed to hurt? Her eyes drooped, head lolling as her fingers started to loosen around the girl's. _No..._

Then door to her and Thor's chambers burst open with a bang.

Imogen jumped unexpectedly, eyes flittering open weakly. They found the doorway instantly, just in time to see Thor himself storm through, brow furrowed deep. His blazing eyes scoured around the room of women before they settled on his distressed wife in the bed. Imogen's heart skipped a grateful, fragile beat - he was here! Thor had come for her.

He paused for a second, before he made a bee line for her bedside. "What's happened?" he barked at the midwife at the end of the bed as he passed with hostile eyes, as if it were somehow her fault. His arms swept away the young maid in a similarly aggressive fashion, swiping her out of his way as he gathered up his wife's fingers in his and held them comfortingly, knelt at her side.

He wasn't truly angry, Imogen knew. Not at anyone in particular. If Imogen was dying, whose fault was it to be? He was just angry. At fate. Imogen had known him long enough to know though; that tiny glint of light in his orbs meant only one thing - he was scared as Hell.

Her fingers clutched at his hard, channelling the grips of distant pain, trying to anchor herself back to consciousness somehow. It felt easier to cope with, knowing her husband was there at her side to support her. The reason to fight was right her with her now, holding her hand through her ordeal. The weak thud of her heart though didn't fill her with much hope.

Imogen's eyes fluttered shut as another contraction gripped her, stronger than the one before. A pant left her lips and her head lolled weakly again to the side.

"She's gone into early labour." Volva answered the King quietly, still knelt at the other side of her daughter's bedside.

Imogen could feel Thor's frown lift; lift from scouring his wife's face - relaxed with exhaustion and numbness as her mind seemed to stretch from her breaking body - questioningly first to Volva, then around to the rest of the women. "But she's not due yet." the Thunder God insisted feebly, as if in disbelief. "Not for months..."

"The baby is coming." the midwife chipped in efficiently from somewhere further down the bed. "There's nothing that can be done to stop it."

_Oh gods_, Imogen thought breathlessly in her head as she felt more immediate truth in the woman's words than were probably intended; the itch to push nudged into her mind, body twitching for it. Her prince was coming. Her baby was ready.

But she wasn't.

Her hand went limp in Thor's as she slumped in the bed, feeling her strength fail he for what she was sure to be the final time.

She didn't feel the same pain as before. She was far away from it, her mind floating. That was bad, she knew. She had to be dying. Darkness lay in the backs of her eyelids but she glimpsed a flicker of light somewhere in the darkness of her mind. Her heart was so slow, so weak...

She started to relax, sinking into the bedsheets. She didn't want to endure this anymore, she couldn't. She couldn't fight the darkness as it started to close in on her.

"No!"

Thor's hand left her's and his both secured either side of her face, tightly, Urgently. Imogen could feel him standing, leaning over her.

She wanted to smile, knowing how he would look, even through her closed eyes. His tone... he was in such denial. His eyes would be blazing, his teeth gritted, refusing to let her give in... but she couldn't do it anymore. The peace was so inviting.

Fingers gripped the sides of her face more forcefully. "Imogen, don't you dare." he ordered frantically at her from above. "Open your eyes! _Open_ them! You're stronger than this."

She'd thought so too... until this. Her body wasn't as strong as her spirit it seemed. Her heart thudded a little harder at Thor's encouragement, but her lips still stayed numbly parted, eyes blissfully closed. She could feel it; she was barely alive. The spirits were just waiting to take her.

"Imogen..."

Wetness touched on Imogen's hand on her mother's side and she felt her fragile heart crumple a touch. Her mother was crying.

_I'm sorry_, she sent in her head, feeling tears prick in the corners of her eyes. Her lungs sucked in a ragged, weak breath. She sent it to her mother, to her husband, her daughter and father, to her unborn son... she was going to hurt them all terribly.

Her eyes screwed a touch tighter, mouth tensing slightly. No... she didn't want that. No. Her family...

A forehead touched gently to hers and a shaky breath ran over her hot face. And then a tiny splash of wetness. "You can't give in." Thor told her, voice soft and broken. There was no more bravado. He could see it as much as Imogen felt it - he was losing his wife before his eyes.

Imogen felt her heart ache more and slight feeling came back to her fingers; enough to grip at the sheets lightly. A tiny groan left her lips. She didn't want to hurt Thor. Not like this..

"I love you too much to lose you." the King breathed over her, another tear falling onto his wife's cheek. "I need you. Shelby needs you. I can't do this without you." His hands roamed up, lacing through her sweaty hair. "Please don't leave me."

What was he doing? Imogen vaguely scolded in her head. He was the king, had a reputation to uphold... yet he was crying?! There were people to see him. He couldn't...

She groaned again as the weight of her body started to register back in her mind again - as well as its pain. She whimpered loudly, heart jumpstarting again at the agony. Her hand near crushed her mother's, back arching off the bed slightly.

She was stronger again, she realised with a gasp as the immediate pain started to subside. Her eyes flickered open, finding Thor's teary crystal orbs hovering above hers. A smile flickered on his lips gratefully, another tear blinking free from him. He didn't notice it in the slightest; his mouth crashed down on hers in a hard, quick kiss. His wife was fighting, holding onto life.

His hand found hers again and she gripped his fingers with as much strength as she could muster. She could feel her inner muscles tighten - wanting to push. "It's too soon." Imogen whimpered ramblingly, shutting her eyes again, rolling her head lightly from side to side in denial. "It's too soon. He can't be ready."

"He's coming now."

The midwife wasn't lying. Imogen could feel it. She had to push, or her baby would never see the light of day. He needed her.

Thor moved away from her forehead but stayed close at her side, lips so close to her cheek, holding her hand tight. He wasn't letting her go. "Come on, Imogen." he breathed into her ear. "He needs you. You can do this."

_No, I can't_, she thought tiredly. She could feel the pain, but no strength to counter it. How could she push?

_This couldn't be_, she thought in her head. He would be too small. He needed more time...but maybe the magic would strengthen him, she thought. She _prayed_! Her heart was racing in her chest now but she felt it harden with resolve as she used what little strength she had to lock her propped up legs in place, gathering herself. Her baby really was coming. She couldn't let him down.

Imogen gritted her teeth and waited, keeping her eyes closed and her hands in her mother's and Thor's as she waited for the next contraction to come. Contraction would mean push. A push closer to having her son.

This was the day she'd been waiting for. She'd waited for her son for a long time, taken risks for him to exist.. now was the day. Today, Lord Roanull would get his authority check handed to him on a platter. She gathered her strength and braced herself. Screaming wouldn't get her anywhere now. Now she had something to focus on.

She braced her legs apart as pressure started to prickle around her swollen belly and clenched her hand in Thor's. _This was it_, she thought, finding her mother's hand on the other side of the bed and gripping it too.

And then in a space of a breath the pain was there and Imogen was pushing down into her womb with everything she had.

The cry left her hard and strong as pressure pushed heavily on her nether regions, feeling her son push at his passageway. She pushed as long as she could before her body just slumped weakly in the bed, and the pressure in her hips held. He was coming.

Her head started to float again and she prayed for strength, gripping Thor's hand hard. She was not going to lose him now. Not her husband. Or her son. She wanted to live. Wanted to see her child grow, her husband age beside her. She was not going to die here, she told herself. She would die in her bed, with Thor's arms around her, a nest of grey hairs on her head, in thousands of years to come... not here!

She screamed and pushed. Then screamed and pushed again. With every push, she felt her heartbeat stengthen and the blood pulse around her body with life, refusing to die. And the pressure and pain coursed though her lower section. Good, she told herself - that meant her baby was coming.

A solid shout left her as a tiny head slid free of her body, and she felt him hover between her legs. A small smile of triumph bathed over her face. She had done it. She was doing it. She wasn't going to give in.

She felt more wetness touch her below, and knew there was more blood as the midwife demanded for more cloths to soak it up. She didn't linger on it though; her boy was nearly here.

The next contraction rippled in warning and Imogen gripped Thor's hand in a way that hurt her fingers. She couldn't stop though.

"Come on, Imogen." Thor murmured in her ear. "You can do this."

His lips pressed into her hair as Imogen's lips broke in a scream, feeling her body tense and tear and she threw everything she had into this last push. One more, and she could do it. One more, and it would all be worth it. This long day would be over at last, with a new life in Asgard.

It hurt so much but she couldn't think of that, she told herself. Her boy. Think of her boy and everything she'd done to have him. Her precious child, soon to be in her arms.

And then with her last push of strength his body flowed from hers in a rush and into the waiting hands of the midwife.

Imogen laughed into her receeding scream as she felt it, thanking whatever gods had spared her and delivered her son. She laughed with relief mostly. She heard the clip as the cord was rapidly cut, waiting for her little boy's cries to follow.

The blood rang in her ears, deafening her to nothing but it's loud pounding as she gasped for breath, feeling her head spin. It was over, she vaguely thought in her head. Over. She had her baby.

Thor's lips pressed hard into the side of her cheek and she could feel his teeth from his grin. "Well done." he chuckled warmly against her cheek. "You did it! Our boy..."

_Was quiet_, Imogen finished his sentence for him in her head, eyes fluttered closed. Her ears strained to hear him. Surely he must be crying? Babies cried. They all did. She didn't dare believe she'd be lucky enough to have such a tame baby! Maybe he was still groaning a little, still getting used to breathing before he cried.

Imogen's lips were relaxed in a blissful smile, basking in the itch in her weak body. She was exhausted, heart still aching, so, so tired... but she wanted nothing more to sit up and take her baby boy in her arms and just cradle him to her chest. She wanted to see him.

She didn't object as Thor's fingers slowly melted from hers and she felt him press a tender kiss to her cheek before he straightened up. Hopefully to bring their son to her, she thought eagerly.

What was taking so long? Was her son so magnificant that the women simply couldn't take their eyes off him? She couldn't hear much talk or bustling so they must just be staring in wonder, Imogen thought, feeling even her mother's hand leave hers as she moved to see her grandson. She felt undescribable pride fill her; just a minute old, and he already demanded the attention a future king deserved.

She settled her hands on her slightly sunken abdomen peacefully and waited. She was content to wait. A chance to gather herself before she would have her son in her arms, before he screamed and would need feeding, would be helpful. She was ready for her son to be demanding. He had a right to be.

But why couldn't she hear him?

Her heart skipped a beat and she held her breath, wanting nothing to distract her from hearing that fateful sound of her son. Eyes lightly shut, still on her back, she waited to hear the wails of her infant.

And waited on.

And on.

And on...

Her heart started to thump loud and hard as her skin crawled. He was still silent. Why? Why couldn't she hear him?

Her eyes flittered open wearily and she grazed the outline of a tall figure that could only be Thor, stood beside the bed. She couldn't see much else of him, only to know he was there. He hadn't gone far. Eyes drifting shut again, her hand reached out, searching for his.

Her fingers brushed against his rough, calloused ones and he moved to grip hers instantly - hard. Imogen gasped under the hard pressure of his hand, tension creeping into her peaceful face at last. Her brow dipped slightly.

She felt barely conscious, feeling her body wanting to slip into sleep. She just wanted to sleep off the pain of her body, to fall into slumber ...with her new, healthy little boy resting in her arms. She wanted to hold him. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted to see if he had his father's beautiful blue orbs or his adorable blonde locks.

"Thor." Imogen sighed breathlessly, exhausted, fingers gripping his to try and get his attention. She could feel it; he was still stood, facing side on to her.

What was he looking at? His boy? Why didn't he just go to him?

Imogen groaned as she shifted, scrunching her face when a sharp wave of pain shuddered through her. "I want to see him." she gasped out. Just a glimpse. A glimpse and she could go to sleep with dreams of him. If only she could see him...

The room was silent, she noted with a chill down her spine. Not just quiet as she'd previously thought - deadly silent. Not just the child's cries were missed, but the women's. They should be talking, gossiping happily, congratulating, hustling frantically to have Imogen's baby in her arms, to have him clean and like a tiny angel as his parents fauned over him.

But there was none of that. Why?

Imogen could feel the stillness. There was no breeze from the movement. No one had moved an inch. Why? _Why?_

The breaths started to hitch in her throat and she didn't understand why. Nor did she understand the ice that ran through her blood. Tears pricked at her eyes, spilling over her cheeks quickly; she just wanted to hold her boy. Where was he?

She summoned what little strength she had to prop herself up reluctantly on her elbows, forcing her eyes wearily open. Her head swam and her heart stabbed with a pain, but she ignored it firmly, promising herself she'd rest once she had first glimpse of her baby, even if she couldn't hold him yet.

She saw her mother's face first though: the woman was stood with her back against the wall, her hands up and held over her mouth. Not in a happy way, by the look of it though.

Imogen turned to her husband before she rose any further, her brow furrowing. What?, she thought with a chill. Why was her mother like that? Just overcome with emotion maybe? She looked to her husband for answers... but he was nothing reassuring himself: his eyes were locked on the end of the bed, his face pale and body still, not even breathing. Was it just her or were his eyes wetting? His lips pressed together and Imogen felt herself break out in anxious sweat, her smile finally slipping as she watched him swallow hard, as if something was stuck in his throat.

Only then did she pay attention to the chill running down her spine, on the way her heart pounded. Something felt wrong. She didn't want to admit it.. but she couldn't ignore the looks on her mother and husband's faces.

What was it? Did the child have some sort of mark? Was it somehow betrayed on his face that he'd been conceived through magic? Imogen's blood ran cold at the thought. Or was it not a son, but a girl? Was that what had everyone so stunned, their hopes dashed...

But it wouldn't be as bad as that surely, if it was only that she had another daughter rather than a son.

She shook her head quickly. No, she just had to see him. Just see him, and everything would be fine again. Her arms trembled slightly, but didn't stop her as she rose herself up higher against the headboard, hand slipping out of Thor's in her efforts.

That jolted Thor back to life; "No." he croaked, turning away from their infant and to her, his head bowed as his hand tried to ease her shoulder back down to the bed. "Imogen. Don't."

He sucked in a ragged breath and Imogen couldn't take her eyes off his dark face, just torn with... no, she wasn't going to admit what it looked like. He couldn't look her in the eye, his tone sounding so broken. For a moment, she considered listening to him. But she couldn't. He just made her more anxious now.

She pushed his hand off her with a strength she didn't realise she possessed and wrestled with the pain as she moved to get upright. Her core screamed with pain, and her heart jabbed sharply, straining as she tried to get her legs underneath her, to push up on her knees.

She partially succeeded, mouth falling open as the pain was accute. The moment she rose on her knees though, Thor's hands found both her shoulder's trying to gently hold her back.

That frightened Imogen more than anything.

She didn't even consider obeying this time; her hands found his forearms and tried to pull him away, fighting to get a glimpse of her son. "Let me see." she insisted, desperate.

She heard another shaky breath leave her husband, even hearing a hitch in his voice as his arms wrapped around her, his chin atop of her head. Or trying to be. Imogen squirmed relentlessly. "Imogen, please." he as good as pleaded, hand cupping the back of her head.

Every time she heard his tone, Imogen felt something stab deeper into her heart, but she didn't dare listen to it. No. She couldn't. She couldn't face the dread creeping into her system. She wouldn't let it exist. No. Her boy... she just needed to see him. Thor just needed to hold him. Things would be fine. They had to be.

Imogen struggled on, until finally she glimpsed over Thor's shoulder and his arms held her there, his face buried in the side of her neck.

Her heart stopped as she felt his tears on her skin again.

What? No, that wasn't right. He should be happy...

And her son should be crying.

Then, finally, she saw him.

Her body just stopped. She froze in her struggles, letting Thor's arms hold her as she stopped breathing, her heart aching more than ever; her son was tiny on the end of the mattress. Tiny, his skin blue beneath the little white lumps of gloop that covered him and the red splatter of blood, but perfectly formed in every way, with a smudge of dark, wet hair on his head.

He just needed air, Imogen told herself, trying to remember how to breathe herself. It didn't work so well - especially when she noticed her son struggling with it too.

Gods, he wasn't even trying...

He didn't get any air into his lungs at all. He didn't move. Not even a fraction.

Imogen's gut clenched as if someone had punched her. He still didn't move. His little chest didn't lift. His little eyes didn't open, still face turned towards her as he lay on his back. His limbs lay limply at his sides. His full lips didn't part for his first cries. His head didn't roll, searching for his mother. He was just still. Unmoving. Imogen felt like she was going to be sick.

"No." breathed from her lips instinctively, the longer she stared at the unmoving creature at the end of her bed. She glanced down, glimpsing between it's legs; she had a son.

_Had_ a son.

He wasn't moving.

Her hands started clawing at Thor's back, growing more and more desperate every second. No, she thought frantically. She had to see him! She needed to see her boy, to get to him.

But he still didn't move.

Tears stung at her eyes but she didn't stop, fighting with Thor to get forward to her infant, squirming even though the pain seared between her legs, piercing through her weak heart. Her body screamed at her to stop but she only fought harder the longer she stared at her child and he didn't stir. Her eyes were so wide they hurt. "_NO!"_

The cry was almost feral but Imogen barely heard it leave her lips, too consumed with such a deep cutting loss attacking her heart...she squirmed wildly in her husband's arms. Her boy - no...

The tears streamed down her face and she could hear herself distantly screaming. What was she screaming? Words? Just cries? She wasn't sure. It echoed in her head over and over again, cushioned by the numb pain of her nether regions as she kicked and clawed to get to her infant.

Even if she got to him, what would she do? That didn't seem to matter. As if her touch would suddenly bring him to life, if she could just hold him. The manic thought that she wished she could pull him back inside the safe haven of her body crossed her mind, but she knew it was ludicous just seconds after it ran through her mind. She knew there was nothing she could do. Nothing anyone could do.

The women just stood back respectfully from the edge of the bed, heads bowed. The young girl was crying.

Imogen didn't want their tears - "Do something!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "For Odin's sake, _do something_!" Her words trembled with her tears, but she didn't care, yelling for all she was worth.

The women stayed still.

She felt Thor crying with her, his arms too tight around her, face buried in her neck, feeling his breaths hitch and whine with loss... she'd never seen him like this. She'd never felt like this. Her heart beat hard and strong and by all the gods, it _hurt_. And she hated it. Hated it. Hated life.

"_Please_!" she begged desperately, blinking away what she could of her tears as they blurred her vision of her son. She didn't want anything to interupt her. Nothing to get in the way.

Why didn't someone do something? Anything! Give him medicine, blow air into his lungs... _but he was stone cold blue_, a voice pointed out in her heart.

It was too late.

This was wrong. So, so wrong. He was a baby, hadn't even been given a chance at life. A brief flare of anger coursed through her - why had she lived and he hadn't? It should be the other way around. She'd trade their places in a heartbeat if she could. She should have died, not...not him.

Her heart ached harder than ever and she prayed that it would give out, that she could walk with her new son into the afterlife. She didn't want to leave him. No. She couldn't think anything beyond '_no, no, no'_, wanting nothing more than to hold him, convincing herself it wasn't the end. Not before it had begun.

Her hands gripped at her husband's shoulder and she held her weeping face against his shoulder, wrenching her eyes away from their lifeless son at last; her body shuddered with her mournful cry, surrendering to her anguish.

She had her son. Her heir. Her precious, darling little boy...

But he was dead.

She screamed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Imogen was angry.

Fury blazed quietly in her steely orbs as she stood outside the palace gates, watching the flames of her son's funeral pyre spiral up to the dark sky. In her heart, it was not so quiet. In her heart, she was screaming.

She'd done a lot of that. Screaming. She woke from nightmares screaming. Then came the crying and the praying. A constant endless cycle of despair since her son's death, a neverending life of misery. It never dampened her pain. She'd hoped it would fade with time... but a week later, she was just as broken as she was that night she'd first seen his dead body, still linked to hers.

Her little boy...

Thor was at her side, looking grave and solemn. His hands were tucked behind his back, wisely not touching her. His instinct was to comfort her, Imogen knew.

But she sent him one warning glare and he knew that was not what she wanted. As much as this agony burned, she didn't want comfort. She wanted to feel it; it was the only reminder she had of her child. She didn't want to share that pain with anyone, selfishly holding it for herself.

The kingdom was laid out before them. Not just the city, but the people, crowds coming in masses to grieve for their passed prince. Candles and grave faces faced the mourning King and Queen across the pyre, offering their sympathy.

Imogen didn't want them there. She didn't want any of this.

Naturally, it had been the court's idea. The public funeral, to unite the kingdom, they'd said... they'd wrenched her dead son from her arms the very morning after he was born. Then that had been it. The matter was taken out of her hands. She never saw him again, not until his little body, wrapped in cloth, was set alight in the fire.

They'd done it to burn her, cast her aside and make her feel useless and unimportant... and stood her here now, displaying her failure to the kingdom.

But she didn't care.

The court could do whatever they wanted, and right now Imogen just didn't care. They could hate her if they wanted to, but they couldn't hate her more than she hated herself. They could shame and ridicule her, but it couldn't make her feel any worse. She didn't want to be liked, or cared for, or to be Queen - she just wanted her son back.

It was all her fault... all hers...

The magic. Imogen was no fool. While others pitied them for their 'misfortune' only Imogen knew the truth and knew it was no accident she'd lost her child. He'd been taken from her. The gods were punishing her for using magic, in the most cruel way possible.

The family were behind her and Thor, blissfully innocent of the reason their beloved grandchild and brother had been taken from them. The court had long since departed. Shelby was with her grandparents, Odin and Frigga cradling the infant like she was their lifeline as they watched the burning from behind Thor and Imogen. Vovla and Aevar were beside the former rulers.

Imogen didn't dare turn to see their miserable faces, just wrapping her arms around herself. She didn't wear her usual gowns. Creams and white were beautiful on her, but today she wore black drapes; the black dress hugged around her body, and a black shawl was draped over her shoulders, concealing every bit of her skin save for her face and hands under a cover of darkness. To match the colour of her heart.

She was supposed to be in bed. The labour had weakened her and her heart was still not recovered, let alone her bruised womb and nether regions. She'd spent every moment since losing her son in bed, but she'd push herself for this, for him.

Imogen didn't know what to do. She'd never felt like this, never lost anybody to death. And the baby who she'd carried and cared for for seven months had to be the first? It was cruel. Too cruel.

She stood diligently before the pyre, watching silent and still. Thor couldn't cry, even though he'd spent plenty of time behind closed doors doing just that. He had a face to maintain in public. Looking grave was the most he was allowed. He was still Asgard's proud, strong king.

Tears streaked shamelessly down Imogen's face though. She didn't have such restrictions - not that she'd let that stop her. One thing she would never let the court do was tell her how to weep for her dead child.

She didn't sob or gasp; tears rolled silently down her cheeks with a deadly beauty, even her eyes not betraying the usual shimmer. They were hard and firm, full of resolve. Resolve for what though, she didn't know. She was trying to hold herself together, in any way she could.

The light started to fall, but Imogen didn't move. The darkening sky only made the flames more bold, more... inviting.

She itched to just walk into the fire and perish with her baby. This pain was unlike anything she'd ever imagined... and she wasn't sure if she could bear it. It broke her. She wanted to be with her boy, wanted more than anything to hold him. She'd never felt such heartbreaking despair, like she truly couldn't face the next day. She wasn't sure how she would do it.

Thunder rumbled darkly in the sky and Imogen's lips pursed. If Thor didn't hold back the rain, she would kill him. He was not going to ruin their son's only moment. Lightning crackled dangerously, betraying the Thunder God's distraught emotions but not a drop of water fell, saving the already saturated ground from his wrath just a while longer. It had rained relentlessly the last week.

Hours had passed and sympathy could only soothe so far, last for so long. One by one, people began to understand that: as the flames fell, the crowd numbers fell with them. Imogen ignored their departure, not caring about the thinning crowd. Who were they? They didn't know the boy. Who were they to grieve or console his parents? Imogen resented them for that, for their familiarity. It was none of their business.

Finally though, the flames started to fall. And people began to leave. One by one, hour by hour, the crowd slowly thinned, until precious few remained.

And then her parents left too.

And Loki.

And Odin and Frigga, taking Shelby with them.

Imogen's hands started to shake, clutching at her upper arms. Her lip began to quiver. She fought to hold herself together; she wanted to stay strong, to hold together...

Then Thor's gentle hand touched her shoulder as he turned his back to the pyre. Imogen hugged her arms tighter around herself, as if it would hold together the pieces of her broken heart. "I'll see you later." he breathed simply, eyes dark as they stared troubled over her shoulder. "Take your time."

Imogen wasn't sure what 'see you later' really meant, but she didn't really care, just wishing he would go. She just wanted to be on her own.

Her teeth dug into her lip as she waited for Thor's footsteps to fade, feeling her spirit crumple with every second. She screwed her eyes shut. She'd fought to hold herself together, refusing to break in front of her family, in front of the whole kingdom... but now it was just her.

Her knees thudded to the ground as the first tears breached her eyes. She choked back the sob that was fighting it's way up her throat, feeling like she was suffocating. She couldn't breathe. They stuck in her throat painfully, like her body knew she shouldn't be here. She should have died. She should have. Not him.

She wasn't sure if it was true or not, but maybe if she had died, the spirits wouldn't have taken her child too. It was her job as his mother to protect him.

And she'd failed.

Her hands fell forward into the mud, fingers curling into the wet dirt as rain began to fall again. She didn't care. She didn't care about anything. Not a thing.

It was all her fault. This was her punishment for using magic, what was strictly forbidden in the land. She knew it was wrong, but she'd done it anyway, selfishly. Not because she wanted another baby, but because she'd wanted what the baby would give them. And the price she'd paid for her selfishness was her son's life.

How could she live with that?

Her hair clung to her face and her clothes to her body as the rain fell back in torrents, and Imogen knew there was no way Thor could be peacefully in their chambers.

Her muddied hand flew to her mouth, eyes wide open as she couldn't hold back an agonised whimper, flooded with guilt.

_It was all her fault._

XXX

Imogen knew where she would find him. Not in the bedroom. He was too distraught to simply turn over and sleep.

He'd be in the training room.

She was still wet from outside, dragging a trail of water along the floor with her as she walked through the corridors, but no one stopped her. No one would dare.

Her eyes were glistening still with tears as she moved, feeling numb. In the back of her mind, she knew she ought to go to bed. She'd been up for too long already, and though nothing hurt, her heart ached poignantly. If she pushed it, the pain would come soon enough. And she was definitely pushing it, feeling as weak as she was.

But she wasn't going to go back to that bed alone.

He wasn't there. She knew Thor wasn't in their chambers. There was only one place he would be when his emotions were as torn up as the thundery skies betrayed.

And Imogen trudged there, feeling lifeless.

The only thing she could thing about was _him. _He didn't even have a name. They'd never named him, and Imogen wished they had. It might dampen the horror somehow, make it feel like not all trace of her child could be swept away. She didn't want to just forget him. Feeling the ache inside her, she wasn't sure if she ever could.

She didn't need to look to where she was going. It was like she was drawn to Thor on tightening elastic, pulling them together again.

She hoped she would find him. The thought that he really could be back in their chambers, ready to sleep, as if nothing had happened.. no, she couldn't bear that. She wanted him to be just as destroyed as she was. It wasn't fair. Perhaps miscarriage would have been easier, but a stillborn... she'd not known anything was wrong until it was too late. So close... so cruel...

Her hand touched at the door to the training room, snapping herself out of her thoughts. Or maybe it was the noise from inside that did that.

Her eyes blinked to life - and another almighty crash drifted through the thick wood of the door. She sucked in a breath in shock, but her eyes watered with relief; _he really did care..._

Her hand pushed the door open, despite her best instincts, and she slipped inside. She flattened her back against the door in a heartbeat.

Imogen held her breath: he was...outraged.

She saw Thor in the middle of the room, not even noticing she was there as his hands grabbed whatever he could reach and hurled it around the room until it crashed and shattered against the wall. She glimpsed his face - twisted in a snarl, in such absolute rage it hardly looked anything less than animalistic.

He threw everything: swords, racks, hammers, spears, armour and cabinets. Glass shattered against the walls, littering the floor. Everything was a mess. Nothing stood upright, and yet he threw it all still.

There was nothing sane in his face. Dressed so dignified in his armour andred cape, but he didn't act like the king he was. He was insane.

Imogen backed up against the wall, and knew it was all too easily she could be hurt or slain by a flying weapon, but she didn't leave. It made her heart ache with relief to see him like that, as cruel as it was.

The tears were running down her cheeks before she realised it, leaning her back heavily against the door. She couldn't take her eyes off him.

The pain in his heart was written all over his face and Imogen felt her heart beat with longing for it, glad of it. She was happy seeing her husband in pain. It was wrong, but it made her glad. She didn't want to be alone in this grief. She wasn't sure she could bear Thor being just indifferent to their loss of child, not caring...

But he did care and the training room was getting destroyed for it.

He roared as he hurled, such agonised, wounded sounds. He screamed and yelled, and all sense of the gentle god Imogen knew as in there somewhere was gone. This was a beast.

A faint smile touched her lips.

Her knees felt weak and she let them slide her to the ground, never taking her eyes off her husband's brutal display of power.

_He'd lost his mind_, she breathed in her head, heart flickering with fear as a flung blade clattered to her side, the metal sharp and deadly. It could have hit her, killed her. Her husband had no idea what he was doing.

Yet a part of her didn't mind. Her heart was still glowing at his anguish and she knew she was a horrible person for wanting him to feel this pain but she revelled in it. She'd been so scared he wouldn't care, even though she'd seen him cry in their chambers, seen the hurt in his eyes... but it was a relief to know that he was feeling the same tidal wave she felt inside.

Her legs pushed her shakily to her feet, sliding slowly back up the wall. Thor had fallen to his knees at last, head in hands. His back rose and fell quickly and Imogen knew he was gasping for breath.

She stepped forward. Thor was still, his hands not throwing anything for the first time since Imogen had come here. He was hunched over, head and hands nearly on the floor. Everything was silent, except for the quiet groans and moans that left the crumpled King.

Imogen walked numbly, knowing she should be going in the opposite direction, but she didn't care. Thor was broken, and he needed her. It gave her a sense of purpose, distracted her almost. The pain bubbled and cacooned around her heart but this time it wasn't something she wanted to fight. Like when she'd been on her own in the courtyard with her son's ashes, she let it engulf her.

Her heart ached with a numb pain as she walked forward, until her husband was in reach. She was pretty sure he still didn't know she was there, not making any sign...

She reached out and touched his shoulder.

It was only in that heartbreakin second later she realised how dangerous it was to touch a raving god without warning. He could have hurt her, have turned and attacked her... she wouldn't have stood a chance against him if he'd reacted badly.

She didn't really care. She still felt just as suicidal as she'd been watching the flames of the pyre. Maybe a part of her wanted Thor to hurt her.

He didn't though.

He froze.

Imogen held her breath.

Her hand cupped his shoulder, fingers squeezing at the hard metal snakeskin armour. It was tough, but she knew Thor felt it beneath the molded metal, felt her touch. It was confirmed seconds later - when he turned into her, knelt on the floor and buried his face in her stomach.

She groaned quietly, fluttering her eyes shut; her stomach was still tender, aching, just like the rest of her. It was hardly a normal birth she'd had, destructive to both her baby and her body, feeling ripped apart inside.

Still, she gritted her teeth and weaved her fingers in her husband's hair as his arm hugged around her hips, holding her to him.

She felt his tears moisten though her dress.

XXX

Imogen didn't let anything stop her as she strode through the streets, black drapes billowing back from her body at the pace of her stride like a deadly cloud. She weaved between people, eyes cold, hard and focused ahead as she moved.

There was only one place she wanted to be, one person she wanted to talk to right now.

The anger simmered in her heart again and she let it fire through her veins, consuming her. It guided her steps all the swifter. There was nothing that could stop her now.

Finally, the door came into sight along the line of buildings and Imogen as good as ran for it, ignoring the fact that it was closed. Locked or not, she was coming in. She'd scream and shout if it would get her inside. She was not to wait now, not for this.

The woman's face ghosted in her mind and venomous hatred bubbled to the surface - the witch. If Imogen had not sought her services maybe her son would be here today. The gods wouldn't have taken vengence on her for her lack of faith. She'd taken nature into her own hands and now the gods were punishing her by taking away the fruits of her labour. It was no less than she deserved... but her _son_...

Her fist pounded on the closed wooden door harshly, over and over again. She expected it to be locked, like it had been when she'd been consulted, but to her surprise the door swung open.

She didn't hesitate to stride through it, gathering her black skirts in hand and pulling them with her.

Two pairs of eyes found her in the doorstep; the witch's big amber orbs, and an innocent customer's brown ones, frowning.

Imogen glared at the spare woman, and saw fear dig into the customer's heart. "My Queen-"

"Get out." Imogen grated in the calmest voice she could muster. She wanted to grab the girl and throw her out the room herself but...still the girl didn't move though, frozen with fear. Imogen didn't have the patience for that today though: "Get out!" she near screamed. "Now!"

She was hysterical, dangerous. Imogen could feel the violent emotions rage through her and knew as the woman scampered out the door that if she'd have hesitated just a moment longer, then some sort of blood would have been drawn.

The second the girl was out, Imogen slammed the door shut and pulled down the board to lock it, barring them from the outside world. They were alone, her and the witch.

The witch stood at the end of the counter, the desk between her and the rampant Queen. If she thought that made her safe then she was wrong, Imogen thought.

The witch's amber eyes were big as ever, gleaming innocently, though a subtly glint betrayed her, a hardness. "My Queen." she said, Imogen only just biting her tongue. Her fists curled at her sides, tangling in the black draped of her skirts, clinging to her control. "I'm so_ sorry _for your loss."

Something panged inside Imogen, something crippling. She resisted the urge to wince at the pain in her heart. The woman's eyes gleamed; she wasn't sorry at all.

Imogen held herself back though, fighting the instinct to launch herself at the witch. She probably wasn't strong enough for that. She'd only collapse, get ordered back to bed for another week... she couldn't have that. She was done lying around.

Her lip curled with hate though as she stared at the witch, trying desperately to restrain herself. "The son you promised me is _dead_." Imogen spat. "Your magic didn't work." And as trivial as it seemed: "I want my money back."

It was something. Like withdrawing her consent; it made her feel better, like she was trying to redeem herself. Maybe the gods would see it too and take pity on her, not curse her future children too. It was all she could do now.

The woman's dark eyes held firm though, not shaken in the slightest by Imogen's miniature rant: "It worked." she said in a deadly quiet voice. Her eyes glittered and Imogen felt sick, knowing she was about to hear more of magic's trickery. "You asked for a son." she went on calmly. "I gave him to you... it was you who failed to specify the living state you wanted him in."

Imogen's heart stopped... then pounded back again in a rush of hate. No...no, she lied. The witch lied. She had to be...

The Queen's head shook. No, not something else. Not something else that was her fault. The idea she could have saved her boy if she'd been smart enough to add that tiny detail... her fault. All her fault. She was a curse, a demon for that to her child, assuming...

She screwed her eyes shut, and for a moment her guilt washed down her vehemence. In the darkness of her mind, she condemned herself. She hadn't thought it was possible to hate herself any more than she did already, but...

_No_, something cut off in her head. _No, it was the witch. She'd known. It was her fault._

Imogen's heart ached, and she wasn't sure if it was more of the bone crushing guilt or just pure exertion. For her first day out of bed, she'd pushed herself too far... but she'd had to. For this, she had to.

Her eyes hardened as she stared at the witch. The amber orbs stared back mercilessly, uncaring. Her magecraft had helped kill an innocent baby, and yet she didn't care...oh, Imogen longed to make her care. She wished she could report her to Thor. His rage would be furious, his vengence magnificent. The witch would burn for all of Asgard to see if she exposed her to her husband.

But.. so would she. She'd used magic. She'd be condemning herself just the same as the witch. She couldn't expose the woman without exposing herself. And while using magic was bad enough, Imogen - as little as it may seem - didn't want the shame of the kingdom knowing her fertility problems. It would be so horrific. So shameful...

And the court would get what they'd wanted; to shame her and get her out of the way. Law was law.

As much as Imogen hated it, to keep her own life, she had to let the witch get away with it.

Her fists clenched at her sides and she forced herself to bite her tongue. What good could it do now? She could do nothing. Nothing. And the witch knew that, the knowledge secure in her subtly smug amber orbs.

Imogen loathed her...but she could do nothing.

She stepped back, ready to leave. Thor would be looking for her soon and... well, what else could she do here? Her orbs held the woman's though, her promise gleaming. She would get revenge. She didn't know how and she didn't know when... but her little boy would get justice somehow.

That promise gleamed in Imogen's orbs, and even more so in her words; "You'll regret this, witch." she hissed.


End file.
